Like fireflies, circling the torches on the porch.
Like moths, ebbing away at the soft cloth of clothes
It bugs me to know
Even more when you show
There is nothing I can do
To help you pull through
Like mosquitos, seven cylindrical mouths **** up several drops of blood
Like flies, frantically flapping flying ***** eaters
All the waste your handing
I'm handling
with my bare hands
There is only so much blood in a man's body
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC
Like fireflies, circling the torches on the porch.
Like moths, ebbing away at the soft cloth of clothes
It bugs me to know
Even more when you show
There is nothing I can do
To help you pull through
Like mosquitos, seven cylindrical mouths **** up several drops of blood
Like flies, frantically flapping flying ***** eaters
All the waste your handing
I'm handling
with my bare hands
There is only so much blood in a man's body
© December 20th, 2012 by Timothy R Brown. All rights reserved.
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