Andrew Bibby Poems

A single dropp makes even the strongest shudder.
But unless it's from me, I must turn away.
My own suffering caused from a powerless action.
A desperate plea for the sight of my own blood.
...

As I violently ransack the house for something, anything I could use, a thought escapes to my mind.
What if it's wrong? What I'm doing is wrong.
Shoving aside the pesky interruption, I find a glass sphere used for illuminating sinical corners of each room.
That'll have to do... Donkey.
...