There was once an old lady
Who kept saying I was beautiful
Surely, in offering praise
She was bountiful
Each time she spoke my heart flew
I slowly rose to the heavens
Thrice my heart grew
Though her daughter took notice
And asked me not to tell
That her mother was medically sick
So I silently crashed back to hell
YOU ARE READING
Poison Berries
PoetryA series of SHORT poems written to appease the darker souls...
