Have you ever thought?
I think I have not.
And my mind is too tired from trying.
All of my health it costed;
And I was exhausted
By all the who what where and whying.
--
And nor have I dreamed
Though sometimes it seemed
There were surreal thoughts in my head;
I found it a strain
When I slept, to explain
Why pink llamas were sharing my bed.
--
Is there a pill
For curing this ill
Or am I cursed with the fate
Of seeing pink llamas
(When I'm in pajamas)
All galloping 'round in my pate?
_
There is a cure,
I'm fairly sure,
Drink coffee and drano,
Drown all the strange urges
That hit you in surges
The relief will be quite plain-o
After it's all done,
Please tell me, someone,
Is this cure really better than the pain-o
I'll admit that I've wondered
Whilst pink llamas blundered
'round the room; should I call them by name?
Would they find hilarity
in such familiarity?
Or munch on my sheets just the same?

Ok, so I forgot I had to rhyme drano. --kaiel