When the
vultures feed
on my
carrion brain...
then I say
eat
I can take
the pain,
and my two
dead eyes
see only
them,
stare ahead,
still, listening.
Till the feast
they feed on
is almost done,
dead as their brains
and just as dumb.
Top notch! and so elegantly put....made me think of ladies with rollers in their hair gossiping ove the garden fence spreading their misery and smiling... tyvm karen
Your neighbor Betty told me you wrote this with curlers in your hair. She said she heard it from Evelyn down the street. Kidding! I liked it. Great visuals with the eyes and such. S.
A great poem, people will always gossip, nine times out of ten it's them who have something to hide.
Good one Sally - gossips undoubtedly cause pain to the objects of their malicious tongues.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
gossips r vultures. well written. try reading mine