I've created a imaginary friend oh so marvellous.
He keeps me up at night and sings little yodels to me.
Oh I love this friend of mine I diddely-do.
Tis' not a rhyme but my friend's name is Little Mr Cliche.
He does not appear on T-shirts, such a friend is he.
Actions speak louder than words some old man said
But his actions and words loudhails from above.
Here are his lines and actions galore, little Mr cliche I present
I simply adore.
Firstly his words He says rebutting authority with his nearly cliches.
He adds, What are you saying and scutinises your brow.
He muses, Lets make fun of stuff! Common and of old.
He ponders lets booze the night away and scimpers and scrat.
Secondly his actions while I look on tickled.
He stops moving his hands while his stride allows such
He looks concerned asking too many reudandants
He walks quick and strong, Purpose he thinks.
Thirdly his quirks, oh so lively and free.
He's conscious how he looks he checks the posse
He tries to keep with with wit and ganduer
He always peripheral looking out the prying eyes
And he's glad.
Fourthly He's imitations who smell like old feet.
he's speech is the same, boring n dict'
It's raining outside, I can hear his how's n why's
Smarmy or smarty he tells no difference
He's life is like vodka all full of heat.
Well at least he thinks that but it's mild and indescript
Now that I've wrote this I think again
Do I like little Mr Cliche?
Or figments cloud my mind?