THE LIGHTER SIDE OF DREAD

I'm gonna rap until I'm dead,

Fred,

all the words inside my head,

bled,

till the last rhythmic word is said,

hoping I can keep the thread.

Losing words is what I dread.

Gonna line the words up neat,

tweet,

to the old familiar beat,

street,

count the toes upon my feet,

then apply a little heat,

to make the endings sound real sweet.

But I wonder, when I'm old-

-er - if I may be so bold,

sir,

if my poems are crap,

and you see my brain is zapped,

will you tell me truly,

not  embarrass me unduly?

Ask me for a little rap.

I'll try to keep some words on tap.

LOL. For Fireblossom Friday's prompt at Real Toads: Dread. I tried to go for lightness, there being more than enough of the other kind. Thanks to Shay for the improved title.