She was small and blonde
With eyes that reflected sky,
A real femme fatale, who spoke of love,
Charity and Shakespeare,
And whatever else I wanted to hear.
She gave me a gun and told me to kill her old man,
I laughed, pointed it at her and said
‘But it’s just a water pistol! ’
She sprayed me with it to make me give in,
I’d had about enough,
I didn’t flow with the crowd she was in with,
I never gave her the second hand of my watch,
But I’m sure she’ll find some other guy
To make time for her.
©Charlie F. Kane
28/7/08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem