So here we are.
Today’s Horribly Local Poor Poetry Month (HoLoPoPoMo) entry is still concerned about that Disney-Lucasfilm deal and the promise of an Episode 7:
let it be
Long ago and far away
A story was complete
It took a while, we didn’t mind
‘Cause it was hard to beat
We held it close and held it dear
In nineteen eighty-three
(Millennials, please shut up now
You’re of no help to me)
It had a start, it had an end
The middle was the best
We bought the toys, we bought the books
And all the (licensed) rest
Then after we had come of age
And thought we’d seen it all
There’d be another episode!
A whole new op’ning crawl!
We waited anxiously for days
In long and winding lines
Anticipating all the fun
How it would blow our minds
But all we got were Gungans
Think on that, my doubting friend
He gave us freaking Jar Jar, people...
STORIES NEED TO END.
So do poems. The end.
Yes indeed. Welcome to me.
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