Flaming eye with dim ablaze
Sat upon thy tower
Staring down at customers
With such great optic power
Read the glazed menu
And watch the young man fumble
As he struggles to decide
Between turnover or crumble
Flaming eye of glassy fire
Watch with rage and burning ire
As one gives the waitress lip
And leaves a $1.50 tip
This eye stares into your soul
Unblinking lense as dark as coal
As you take leftovers home cold
Only to wind up home for mold
YOU ARE READING
Flickers
RandomA bundle of blurbs. (from my pinterest comments) Vote for which to expand into full stories! Each of these bits and bobs, odds, and ends was inspired by a pin of a prompt, poem, or picture, so without the pin might make no sense 🥲 But I'm working...
