churning
Picture this then tell her tale
a dog barks and a shovel crashes into a pale
The fear that grows inside
will neither hinder or hide
your ability to keep your peace
your ability to pay your lease
it will destroy your joy
and kill for more
Your pleaseure becomes pain
and your pain becomes fuel
The only way to defeat this jewel
is by running and hiding
then running towards
to a place that not all animals can forge
Your signature in blood remains
then the cold vengence complains
of a warm victim it sees
to warm for it yet to seize
please run while you still can
save your self
and be free
from this dirty
old man.
2007-08-09
20:52:16
·
2 answers
·
asked by
PRS TruckIN
3
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry