Cut me into ribbons.
Leave me burned and chopped and charred.
'til the pieces that i build up
are left broken, bruised and scarred.
I am cautious in your garden
that my hands and scent won't touch
all the pristine, perfect flowers
and the pretty, precious buds.
I am not the kind to sully
any wondrous word or will.
I was born to eat the filth and
I was born a shell to fill.
I am nothing in your garden
but a dog for you to use
and if it indeed is needed
I will live to be abused.
Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 10:10 PM UTC
Cut me into ribbons.
Leave me burned and chopped and charred.
'til the pieces that i build up
are left broken, bruised and scarred.
I am cautious in your garden
that my hands and scent won't touch
all the pristine, perfect flowers
and the pretty, precious buds.
I am not the kind to sully
any wondrous word or will.
I was born to eat the filth and
I was born a shell to fill.
I am nothing in your garden
but a dog for you to use
and if it indeed is needed
I will live to be abused.
