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Poem

ON SPIRITS, SAINTS AND SPITTOONS

If you want to love me but find yourself unable
If that is buried deep within you about me
First of all don’t put a setting for me at the table
And for Christ’s sake, just take back the key

This whole palace is your’s and your’s alone
Bedrooms with pink sheets wAND a comforter to match
And when I’m gone and you know it’s me don’t pick up the phone
Lock the windows, lock the door, and double check the latch

I see love in your eyes but surrender in your voice
It seems you’ve succumbed to a wish you hold in your heart
I must admit, knowing myself as I do you are given very little choice
Just make certain to do all the things you need to do whenever I depart

I’m a spirit of spittoons and a Saint of outhouses and such
While you’ve two cars, one you don’t drive, and are oh so very rich
I remember the first time you said ‘I need your gentle touch’
But now I can opine that you’re father’s a coward because he takes bulls**t from your 
mother, the bi**h
                © 2011.….Phreepoetree  ~free cee!~

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