Spare me the hot pot rampaging the kitchen,
By the Porter brought at the king's order canvassed,
Why art thou cooing the pigeon's throe when lizards are opportunists who become landlords only at the owner's dereliction?
Spare me the hot pot displeasing the chef
For it is harvest of his negligence for the overburning fire,
She becomes,
He becomes,
We are,
The hand manipulated to guarantee its agony,
The spade suffers the rusts,
For the scepter to be stately,
To sustain the regalia, the guard smothers self.
We pity us but why does the servant kowtow, giving his master a blue-eyed faithful look when predator and prey can not assure a commensal living?
Though the wall is cracked,
And the lizards have become landlords,
Warranting the homelessness of the market-goers,
We still can walk home, ready to pull the trigger,
At the shout of shoot! Shoot!! Shoot!!!
© Olaitan
Hello, I am Jodekss Gloatkenf --my penname. I am a professional writer, ghostwriter, researcher, editor, blogger, podcaster, artist, thinker and lightworker. I believe in creativeness, diversity and uniqueness --my definition of art.
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