Something written

In the wrong time

Read it, brethren,

It has no rhyme

The song of silly crimes

Written as the bell chimed

A mouse ran from the inside

Of the house, escaping the cat’s glide

The mad dog howling

Since the middle of the night

A shadow crept in,

Avoiding the light

It stayed in the corner,

Hiding in plain sight

Little did I know of my plight

Days now aren’t being fine

Woke up with blood shot eyes

That lady’s being nice

Her fingers caress my hair

And strangling, her delight

Leave me be, woman,

I’m aware of your pretention

Heeding the wrong advice

Open your mind, what do you see?

Is it him? I hear you talk

But in his voice

When you set sail to his shore

Don’t look back, I will be gone

I called you once, I asked you twice

You shall be far before it’s thrice

41 thoughts on “Wrong time

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