Gravedigger of my innocence
Weeping mother grieves
Thoughtless and dressed in black
Irises no more than two little thieves
Poking out under a hat

His physique held greater than I
Hadn’t an intention of innocence
Hands stole more than eyes
And his grasp had a certain brittleness

I’m soup accompanied by bread
Catering his needs
My cauldron body *****
Read the recipe he didn’t read

Allowing myself harm
So I wouldn’t be furthered
Myself I disarm
I beg, I won’t be murdered

A grand feast after a laboring day
I was neither deserved nor greatly enjoyed
Whether he earned me or not
He didn’t care, I was still destroyed

His eyes poor people not to pity
He hadn’t any grub to fill his gut
I was so unwilling I left his teeth gritty
He had me howling like a mutt!

The gaze of a man
Holds no intention of innocence
But of vile thievery
Telling of our ignobleness

A robbery of faux passion
He finished his vegetables, indeed
Next time i’ll be aware of my fashion
He only left me a nosebleed

This world is wild, I quit!
As for desert, he devoured
I was a scared banana split
His hands sticky like a coward

A female alone
Only use was his disposal
Wish I would have known
Why the hell was I so hopeful