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Loony Bin
Forty Eight
We’re in the garden
and Tucker hands me a flower
with a glint in his eye
of pleading
and guilt.
Petal by petal
I pull them away;
separating them from their bodies,
what harm would it be
to kill just one more thing?
he loves me he loves me not
he loves me he loves me not
he loves me he loves me not
and Tucker hands me a flower
with a glint in his eye
of pleading
and guilt.
Petal by petal
I pull them away;
separating them from their bodies,
what harm would it be
to kill just one more thing?
he loves me he loves me not
he loves me he loves me not
he loves me he loves me not
♠ ♠ ♠
Since you're reading this story, I would hope that you enjoy my poetry and would perhaps read some of my free verse and such and tell me what you think?