My Ointment's Fly Poem by Linda A
My Ointment's Fly
It's always been a lie
I was naive to even try
To all along comply
I heard the hue and cry
But continued to deny
You had a finger in each pie
So eat up while you lie
In the bed you made where I
Hope that there you will die
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: anger
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5/5/2024 2:41:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
