To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
Mr. Wrong Lies, like a bird through twisted limbs of trees, weave their spider’s spell on me, I can’t see or breathe Malevolence waits, for the doe like a crouching cat in ripe tall grass, that waves and floats it’s currents in the sun, to pounce and to Plunder Thunder cracks of pain, shame like yesterday’s regrets |
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!