There will always be an Autumn spat
where the cat foils the dormouse
and the Annual taster chocolate box
arrives as nonchalant
as the mysterious sender.
Sometimes I wish we were boxing hares
to really celebrate an outlet for renewed anger.
Munching on my bagels, i feel a pang of Hypocrisy.
I run fickle, planning out the chequered
season.
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 8:11 AM UTC
There will always be an Autumn spat
where the cat foils the dormouse
and the Annual taster chocolate box
arrives as nonchalant
as the mysterious sender.
Sometimes I wish we were boxing hares
to really celebrate an outlet for renewed anger.
Munching on my bagels, i feel a pang of Hypocrisy.
I run fickle, planning out the chequered
season.
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