Thursday, June 10, 2004

Dead Heart

To draw an enemy there within
And make him dear and felt
And touch him with the needle point
And curse him with tongue tied
It is the way

And then to watch him rise in wrath
And clothe him with a guard
And nurture him with fear
And tumble with his very sight

We don’t, do we
Now stranded in the heat of battle
For foe well planted
And friend in doubt
Feeble, fizzle little twat

Commercial in five minutes
Entry number one
I gesture
Please, please
Twat for that

Is that

RC