Satire with a D

writing comedy alone,
missing the stage
and that lonely microphone.

my mind is 100mph,
my heart is 2.

itching to travel,
starting to unravel,
I may die if I don't hit the road. 

there is a tomahawk
under the couch
in case someone wants 
to play catch. 

all I have to do
is make tomorrow happen. 

after a few of those
I will be there
with music.