Every Corner of the Earth had an Itch

What a way to go

A drunken suicide via itchy rope
Beezlebub didn’t listen
So now the king of the courtroom
Was trying to find the center
Because getting closer meant his regions didn’t itch as much

The center was getting warmer, then colder
Elusive but perpetually tempting
Arguing didn’t help
It only made the itching worse
And his head would start to swirl
He finally had to settle for “less itchy”
He decided to rest here, at the foot of a faceless statue
Maybe a nap would help

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