deepundergroundpoetry.com
Table Scraps
Spent so much time in the dog house
My only friend seemed to be rain,
And I truly came to espouse
Ideals of life spent on a chain.
Was not true silence suffered through,
No, echoes managed to creep in.
A dawg's ears, sharp, will catch what's true...
Yeah, it's no secret where you've been.
So when you finally came to me
And told me you missed me so much,
Shouldn't have been surprised really
I was hesitant to your touch.
Still the bone you gave me I took
For hunger of you, 'tis my crime.
You promising more, setting hook,
For when you returned the next time.
And so it was when you came out,
With that next meal you'd so well planned;
I'm sure you thought without a doubt
I'd just be eating from your hand.
Yet it's table scraps you present?
The drool-dripped meat of four days past.
Then raise a stick to my dissent,
Swear this reward to be my last.
Bad dawg, no biscuit, is that it?
Well baby, let me just bark this...
'Like my meat fresh, yes, must admit
Sloppy seconds bring me no bliss.
Would rather starve, 'lone in the dark,
Then share scraps of such vile taint.
So feed me fresh or leave me stark,
For your love-sick pupp-ee I ain't.
Published 9th Oct 2015
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10th Oct 2015 4:45am
Michael, feeling a little worked up my friend. Enjoyed the sassy venting going on here. Had just about all the shit your going to take.
Really could relate to this unhappy to admit.
Keith
Really could relate to this unhappy to admit.
Keith
10th Oct 2015 5:38pm
Sorry you could relate to this on any level, Keith. :/ I just have to let it out, poetry how I bleed. To hold things in is to let them fester inside you, been subjected to way too much to be letting fester these past few weeks. Appreciate the visit and the RL add.
Michael
Michael
