Till She Enters Carrying Her Head
My washing will not dry laid on the hedge
But I stay here nurturing a grudge
I rarely feel one so I must retain
The nasty feeling and the horrid pain
Yet since it hurts me,I must be a fool
The errant friend will turn into a ghoul
I’ll hear her footsteps from my ancient bed
Till she enters carrying her head
Oh God lift up my ruminating curse
Let me have your grace or I’ll get worse
I do not wish to have a bitter heart
Grudges turn to dread; it’s hatred’s art
For if I learn destruction and its ways
Cruelty will have the final say
Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite | Year Posted 2019
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