Shaken Not Stirred
I poured myself into your glass
Though you never asked for a drink
Dripped down your throat
So thick
You can’t swallow
Can’t think
I ruin my knights in armor
No distress in this damsel
Once I’ve caught the scent
I’ll be gone before you know
A shaken etch-a sketch
Your charity erased by my pencil
My mood swings with an uppercut
But your punches
Cluttered my heart
Now you’re just words to be read
When I make you into my art
You’re already as good as dead
Comments
Post a Comment