You my Boy,
The Boring Worm,
The Soul Borer,
The Home Wrecker,
The Heart Breaker.
The only scourge,
That consumes my Core's being.
Neither day or night,
Do i grab a nap.
I stay awake in your wake.
The ruin of my home, You crave,
With your hands you carve.
The taste of my Cake,
You have made your mission.
The warning horn,
I have sounded,
Yet you blindly dwell in ignorance,
Contempt and omission.
It is true,
The ear that takes no hid,
Will accompany the head,
To the chopping vice.
I will sound my horn no more,
I will summon action to quell,
The contempt of my plight.
Many Cows I have dispatched,
In honor of my Flower,
Just for you to pluck and devour.
Our struggles you are oblivious,
Yet you feel entitled,
To do as you please.
It shall be well with you,
In your rightful measure.
The guage of gags and gasps,
The vice for the delinquent.
We shall see where the knobcarry
And the Snotapple will land,
All in due course.

By EbT Natal
© engleberttbruce