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the mirror
You look at him with such distaste
Judging him to fit your pranks
You think of all the mean things you could say
And how he might cry and runaway
The thought fills you with so much joy
Like playing with some new toy
You walk up to him and start to speak
But every thing you try to say he repeats
You get so mad he’s mocking you
He’s even making jesters to
So you start to swing, to beat his a**
But only hear the breaking of glass
When you look up the man is gone
And you’ve been alone all along
 SilverRavenWillow · Mon May 14, 2007 @ 12:32am · 2 Comments |
