What was I thinking... imagining myself top
of the crop? I was once, if not tops, then
surely pie worthy until two soiled me rotten.
They know one bad apple spoils …
A good, strong wind, and I'm bound for ground,
where my sour, embittered taste, perilous
to others, can rest in waste.
Sext
Posted by: poetryman69 | November 19, 2007 at 06:57 PM