I didn’t crawl under the house
The damn thing fell on me
My broken toes peeking out
A wicked witch parody
Like The Fall of the House of Usher
Another woman screaming in the night
With clawing bloody fingers
Body adorned in white
Trapped beneath the weight
Of a fate just not worth living
Below the pale stars
Neither forthright nor forgiving
Those celestial dancers
Eyes appointed to preside
Over the Hell where we reside
From Gothic to suburban
The housewife with her bourbon
The gypsy in her turban
Even the devil is down here with me
He’s a fallen angel too, you see
He likes to whisper in my ear
“It’s not so bad down here”
“Close your eyes, my dear”
I find relief at his behest
Yes there is shade
There is rest
Clever verse, Lola! I didn’t know you were a poet. Good work on a fav subject.
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Thanks, Susan. I do poems every now and then but rarely post them. I think I have two more up on the site if you want to take a look.
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