They stare at me
As if I can give them the world
To satisfy their petty desires
That cloud their morals,
And corrupt their movements,
Would be a crime
Punishable in the extremes
So I offer nothing
YOU ARE READING
A collection of poems
PoésieIdeas spark in my head like vines and I have no control over them as they climb the infrastructure of my consciousness. A collection of poems I write in the middle of the night, or wake up out of a dead sleep to jot down
Nothing
They stare at me
As if I can give them the world
To satisfy their petty desires
That cloud their morals,
And corrupt their movements,
Would be a crime
Punishable in the extremes
So I offer nothing
