The Battle Sonnet

This is my last entry in the poetry war with C-po.  My words stand for themselves.

Come into my apartment and my home and my place,
Oh who is this tiny pale man, this filthy disgrace?
Do I recognize who this person is that I behold?
Yes it is he, Cody Powell, who smells like mold.

So why is he here, I thought he moved out?
Ugh, I can’t take another day with this trout.
Call me a jerk or you can call me a prude,
Know you that he plays XBox in the nude?

I say "Hey Cody, what are you doing here buddy?"
"Thanks for having me back, I got your carpet all muddy!"

Just then I realized I had somehow previously decided,
Evidently the other night my booze and decision-making collided.
Remembering that evening, Cody asked if he could move back,
Knowing now my mistake I give my forehead a smack.

For me Cody Powell is God’s first mistake,
Am I coming to realize that I am not awake?
Cursing his name, with him gone I offer prayer,
Elation! I realize it was just a nightmare.

Tomorrow I will have an old tale about Hollywood colliding with a soccer match.