Thursday, 26 March 2015

scorpion





Pretty little scorpion
Watch you bite
These foreign things
Which need no sight
They move on primal
Instinct sharp,
Their poison fresh
Dont let soft cotton
Betray you
For it is unset
To keep poison
As per
It leaks into gaps
Or slices in between
It's nothing formidable
It even looks clean
To taste the liquor
Of a scorpions suit
If your mans a child
He'll never play the flute

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