Furgiven
 

You scratch me,
I bite you,
Tigers tied at their tails
Round and round they go,
Growls to the death
Quite the toothy show.
Stop the whirl of fur
Untie the knot,
Give pause for thought
So in their eyes, they say
Nothing but nothing’s like
Being furgiven
To prowl another prey.
 

Philemon
 
 
 
 by J. Alan R.

| Back to Index |

 

www.000webhost.com