Forfeiture

She was honey laced with good old arsenic
Wore herself a perfect frenzy in repose
Like a bitter rose with a side of thorn my sweet
My pretty little poppet please relax
Now have yourself a sip of this syntax
Lips froze into a sneer of paralytic
Devotion to a law of Grace inexorable
His condition interestingly deplorable
If one counts such status on the books
Never change, no matter second looks
Blessed by less lost for more
Following come before
You lose your place, place your bet
There is something to forget
Forfeiture,




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 505 times
Written on 2016-03-16 at 09:43

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