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Image for the poem With a Grin

With a Grin

Even wolves will eat their own

The faithful are creatures of habit
Smile and let them have it

Alone, I find safety in darkness
A lone; I've escaped in the madness

I ate the snakes in the garden
Abandoned unto myself
Don't call me selfish
When the gate is locked

Atone; there's price in the sadness
A moment, to inflict

Broken chains rattle more in the quiet
Broken people are quick to requite

Even wolves will eat their own
Written by Results_May_Vary
Published
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