She jogged and ran
she hit that bag of
sand
in her eyes
the pounding glare of a
lions mind
and when she kissed
my aching lips
i knew she`d tare
and rip
my fragile heart
would feel the
grip
of iron claws
and sharpend teeth
and I
am sad to say
I guess I`m just
her daily dish of prey
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mmmmmm - been there... thank you