Your Poetry Dot Com - Tha Poem XV

I told you I was 50.
I told you I was 16.
You were mad at me then.
You said I lied, and you said you cried.
I never saw you cry, but I'll take your word for it.

That day, you took my heart to the limit.
The limit of the wildlife reserve...
Where you fed it to a lion cub.
The lion cub turned around, my heart in tow,
And walked into the underbrush.
Never to be seen again.

In the distance there was fire.
In proximity was my desire.
Our bodies learning to perspire.
Twisted, contorted, metal wire.
So exhausted, I must retire,
Before my heart and head expire.
You called me a liar?
I throw you onto a pyre.
And burn you with fire, fire, fire...
And a rubber tire.
And then I use some pliers...
To pry out your eyes in front of a choir.
I hold your eyes in front of my sire's choir.

I am the sire now.

So I murder the sire and take his throne.
Then I make a staff from his bones.
Then I raise you from the dead and laugh at your burned up head.

Funny charred head. Lol.

This poem is Copyright © dummie