She had a face like a
Working mens club ashtray
Crumpled cigarettes
Smouldering with anger
In moments like these
It's best to stay silent...
If I told the truth I'd be lying
She's now off to bed
After insisting I come home
I pretend to eat a plastercine pizza
It sticks to my teeth and gums
Like sausage bodge
She makes assumption of
What I've been up to
She knows me like Jodie Foster
Knows Hannibal Lecter
I'm a piss taking c**t
And I respect her
- Author: Syd ( Offline)
- Published: August 27th, 2020 19:28
- Category: Love
- Views: 23
Comments1
Strong imagery here. "crumpled cigarettes smouldering with anger" -such a good descriptive line
Thank you so much Melissa. Apologies for the extremely late reply.
-Syd
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.