get to the point

An arachnophobic look said
With nails drawn deep into her knees
Old man what has entered your head?
Rather you do not tell me please

I want not your conversation
Nor your interest in my day
Come quick to the realisation
To you I have nothing to say

The smell of death burns my nostrils
Stings my eyes and makes them bloodshot
The rot set in gives me the chills
On my landscape you are a blot

Far more relaxed and happy here
To all my friends I save a smile
The people whom I hold so dear
Away from you I run a mile

Fair, sweet flower, hint I can take

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.