I have a friend who suffers from amnesia.
Like in memento, mind of magnesia.
Saying everything is not enough just twice.
Be it a joke or some really good advice.
If I explain how he should do stuff,
I create a story, just some fluff.
It’s more fun for me and for him,
Might even cause his limb to touch limb.
These stories I make are different every time,
And I, sometimes, even make them rhyme.
I do this to stop it from being boring.
A story times a hundred and I’d be snoring.
The first time he asked me why tickling exists,
I told him of the pixies rhythmical twists.
The second time it was electric shocks,
The third time the truth in colorful socks.
He doesn’t know I do this, I think,
It doesn’t matter, it wouldn’t even sink.
The point is it makes it more fun for me,
With a trick like this, I’ll do it with glee.
When I talk to him, I’ll be happy,
No of repetition, I won’t get snappy.
This makes his life slightly more superb,
And, every time, I learn a new verb.