Finished for the Most Part
She told me to slither back into my cavern,
Sort of an unpleasant thing to say. She threw
Down the very nice purse which I gave her.
"I don't need this. I cannot be bought,"
But she kept a good grip on the keys
Of the car I had gotten for her on a long-ago
Day when she'd urged me to exit my cave.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 12 times
Written on 2025-02-28 at 20:37
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Griffonner |
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Albert Vynckier |
