She'll never trust him
even with a rock she found on the street.
Yet others flock him, bow to his feet
Hand him their valuables,
their lives.
Beware of him! She cries
How can't they see the forked tongue,
moving as he speaks?
Or the hissing sound each time
he finishes a word.
He's a snake in disguise,
but they are too blind to see.
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PoetryPoems, just poems. This is pretty much my notebook, where I write down stray thoughts and ideas. These poems are not always about me or anyone specific. Highest Ranking: #53 6/8/17 #106! 4/25/17 #94! 4/26/17 #85! 4/27/17 #78! 5/1/17 #71 5/8/17...
