You short-haired wench
With twelve thousand cats;
Reach for the stars, why don't you.
You are mean to people every day
Aren't you happy with your life?
Well cast your library books
Upon a stone,
And you will get nothing--
You will never have a genuine friendship
If you lie,
Do you lie to your eyes
When you look in the mirror?
Do you lie to your face
In front of the human race?
These gorgeous plants
Don't deserve your sunshine,
For your sunshine is wicked.
Here goes the sun, why don't you rot?
There is no standing ovation
For the devil...
Toxic libraries
Shall burn in hell,
Reno Town Mall...devour
Oh Mary is your heart contrary?
Does your garden even grow?
I hope your cats are healed
For they may scratch you.
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Comments2
A contrary Mary for sure. I have one living round the corner from me. Full of the milk of human kindness, she is not. You could have written this poem for her. Well penned poet.
Thank you so much.
Oh Mary is your heart contrary? Reads so well!
Thank you so much.
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