Laugh Track

They liked the idea of you.

The object of everyone's affection.

The chocolate coated baby-candy-treat.

You free bleed into the kitchen sink.

The rain pours harder

but the music is set

at a low level grumble.

Take all the cosmetic surgery

to avoid aging like the mother

that never really wanted you.

This place of pop art serenity

and bubblegum opium...

You are certainly not the first or last to cry out.

The slow drip of color from the walls

and around your eyes.

Daddy would think you're a pussy.

Mom has her letter of resignation all filled out

and stamped.

The unwavering sobriety of "You're too much."

is the titular character in your mid level sitcom.