The Tongue Twister

He talked so fast his tongue did lag.

Fell out of his mouth and on the ground behind him it dragged.

But still he kept blathering, his mouth frothing as he blabbered on…

I began to feel like I was a part of his game, albeit a mere pawn.

As he advanced towards his goal, and with each step he took,

I suddenly realized: I was in the presence of a crook!

But did he stop? No! Not even when

His tongue grew so long it started to curl back towards him again.

All slimy and twirling around his feet it did go.

Stumbling and tripping, but would he stop? No!

And then with a crash! And a boom! (What a farce!)

He kept right on going despite having fallen straight down on his arse.

But then it happened…even he had to regret

When his tongue wound so high, so tight, ’twas now a noose ’round his neck.

With his last lying breath, contorted there on the ground,

I wanted to help, but by his own lies he was now bound.

Once the words had come out he could not get them back in.

His endless verbal spewing had indeed got the best of him.

If only he had paused, took a breath, and just listened.

Considered, and pondered, and thought instead of insisted.

If he could have truly heard what others had to say,

Then maybe the Tongue Twister would not have ended up this way.

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