High Miles

A ***** from hell—that fly’s for free,
Collecting high miles for-souls—
That is her fee.

She is not pretty—nor is she nice,
But she will be your vice--

--Hold on to that high.

You don’t believe we can see-- 
--What is happening to the…

All our love in the world is not enough…
…In the end--She seems to win…
                  
She is a ***** taking our sons’
And…their souls---
---leaving them in a ditch.
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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