I’m here, I’m there. I’m everywhere.
I’m not, I am. I’m half a man.
Split apart, torn is my heart.
Congestion starts.
Turns into fart.
Humour, my solice.
Humour, my palace.
But at the end of the day,
Humour is just fallace.
Cover up, or take cover; down.
I take my place, I hold my crown.
I fall and stall, crawl for fuel.
Once again, I sip my mountain dew.
Two, three, six, eight.
All the sips, I down it straight.
And with the energy I go create.
Wait…
Check mate.