June 16th 2005
Funny, who think talent drips from fingertips
Like blood from cut fingers run.
When moisture felt is truly venom
Running from forked tongue you use
Speaking that which holds no ground
Against those that have never wronged you!
What drives your evil black heart?
From where did you get your dark plots?
You sit there posing seductively. Luring lovers in
Yet quietly behind those eyes,
the poisoned dagger twitches,
Do not listen to the Sirens song
I yell with all my breath
Yet deafened ears my voice does fall on
My love is lost to her…
A short poem I wrote a while back