Sometimes drops come at the climax of a roller coaster.
Some drops come from mouths looking at Daisy Dukes posters.
Some drops come post condensation dew.
And some record labels just drop artists like Blink 182.
Maxwell is irrefutably "good till the last drop."
Hockey in Florida? Well the Panthers "Drop that puck" pop.
There's only one direction for agua in Niagra Falls.
And AT&T ALLEGEDLY claim to have the least dropped calls.
But then there was this day.
A day in early spring. A time where nothing made sense.
But the lights and the scripts.
She sat in a state of Dismay.
Voting for presidents who quoted the M.L. King. And felt this pressure of immense suspense.
But why? When things were given...like scheduled times of classes.
So what about when professors give passes or showed up like cooking molasses.
Things hadn't been easy so why did she expect it now.
All she could do was squeak a smile and continue with the plow.
The drops came down from God's leaking cup. And things looked bleak with the rain coming up.
Gazing in, to the state of Dismay, but only seeing burnt marshmallows and torn Monet's.
Nothing was right at the expense of wasting away. Why had some feelings gone MIA?
But there still remained something. The Law & Order, in her, suspected foul play.
Or had there been a disguise of a clown bow tie and horse hair toupee.
Then God poured the remainder of H too oh, into a sippy cup, fit for Easter Day.
Hoping this life was NOT about to plateau, she prayed for approval...not only from the F.D.A.
peace. love. and pastor tense.