Honey Pie

I’m so sorry honey pie,

I got the mixed up tone and

whipped up cream.

I love you honey pie,

of all the ones who

flew me up and

shot me down.

I feel you honey pie,

dear sentiment,

my sweet rhyme.

Slap me honey pie,

make me red.

I love you honey pie,

until I’m dead.

Honey pie, honey pie;

pull my hair.

Make me cry.

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About Barry Comer

I volunteer as a design and communications consultant with Family Scholar House in Louisville, Kentucky, http://www.familyscholarhouse.org the Democratic Socialists of America http://www.dsausa.org and teach children with emotional and developmental disabilities. I have degrees in art and was an art director for 30 years.
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