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Bad Story
My body lay in blood of swine,
these pigs upon a table.
Names of hurt and so much worse
Fierce as wolf in fable.
My house so small, thus made of straw,
simply blown away.
By those who watch and care to judge
a mouse who's paid to stay.
My trees are weak, the flowers dead,
the path's of fallen whiskers.
Sneaky steps and quiet sound
their feet make quite the whisper.
My town a fake, an evil storm,
a mist of lost destruction.
Face of two and soul untrue,
it's only the introduction.
© All Rights Reserved
these pigs upon a table.
Names of hurt and so much worse
Fierce as wolf in fable.
My house so small, thus made of straw,
simply blown away.
By those who watch and care to judge
a mouse who's paid to stay.
My trees are weak, the flowers dead,
the path's of fallen whiskers.
Sneaky steps and quiet sound
their feet make quite the whisper.
My town a fake, an evil storm,
a mist of lost destruction.
Face of two and soul untrue,
it's only the introduction.
© All Rights Reserved
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