There It Is
There it is the little feckerThat bit my wrists last night.
Bloated with my blood too heavy
To escape as a vampire.
Do I kill it or do I not?
Decide to walk away with
The toss of the head insisting
Night is a long time coming?
Or shall I splat it?
I pick up my convoluted fan
And consider options.
So far I am quiet.
I need to think more deeply.
As we all do.
Poetry by jenks

Read 686 times
Written on 2011-08-12 at 23:22




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