A Letter To Anarchy
Dearest anarchy
there's nothing sweeter than
your sharp tongue in my ear.
The hatred that I once revelled in,
Taking the form of fear
A lie that nothing dreadful
Could suppose could be a trap,
A terror,
Poetry to hurtful minds.
A lonesome slap.
She never saw it coming did she?
Her soul was yours to play with long before
She hit that floor
That day, that night, that summer
Not a moment more.
She ran did she not?
Before you did something else,
She fled the scene
Breadcrumbs leading the way
Back home. At last.
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