Hammered the last
Nail in my coffin
From the inside sticking out
For some unfortunate
Future soles' finding

& of the myriad ways
to drive a man to feel
The goddess weapon
Is *** appeal

All the time
I hear it
He said to me
Sweetie be a
Sweet thing
for me

I looked over the frame and upward to
Meet your eyes when you passed by
A sidewalk beggar
A kenneled hound would
Present this posture to any passing uncertainty
Doning fangs or long coats and a predatory aura

I fell from the curb
Skinned me knee, you bandaged it
and sent me away

Cumbersome, I am
Under some profound stress, and
I'm clueless at best

Wildflower, you
Were no fresh spring rose, scented
Instead, a dry ****