Sowing a Seed To Make Me Bleed
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Thoughts hither, slither like a snake,
Thru fetid weeds to reach your lips,
From there, that poison aptly drips,
And mixes draughts I can't partake ...
Still, farewells come as 'farewell' quips.
How low you bend to tend the plants,
That bloom with petals of your need -
A swoony tune of won'ts and can'ts,
To feed your breed of garish greed
That hides a serpent's circumstance ...
A goodbye sown to make me bleed.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Rhyme Time 8" Poetry Contest, Lu Loo, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2020
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