As the newly hired secretary of your local poetry society, one of your jobs is to go through the mess that is the archives and try and get things in some semblance of order. Currently, you are trying ...
Some want me high, others low.
But always upwards do I go.
Quickly or slow, large or small.
It is often me you will call.
In the end, I alone decide,
Who is happy, and who will hide.
Figure it out, ...
One of many can be swallowed,
One is rot upon the vine,
One for which excess is hollow,
One for which cannot be thine,
Two for cravings not suppressed,
But for what is not the same,
If the last you ...
You could try taking a snooze with this
It won't be pleasant, won't bring you any bliss
It's practically everywhere, maybe even on your skin
But you wouldn't bring it near the faces of your kin