Our church hands part just for dinner
With joy and guilt hot of the skewer.
We shed a second for the unknown thanks
Alas Pierre held off for the devils shanks
This is part one where the child she dances,
At the end her life in a myriad of stances.
The dust and dirt that cakes our skin.
For what lies we live amid those within.
One woman’s hymn is another one's cry,
Vociferous and dazed through Falstaff’s eye.
This is part two of where we are,
Off and away in Daddy’s old grey car.
One for him and four for me
None for you and three to please.
Cant we stop these undesired?
Work them down from wire to wire.
This is part three of the great demise
Held over our heads to cake the skies.
Perplexed by hope in an undying way,
Thoughts provoked in this smattering phase.
What is it that we have done without,
The Caledonian Queen is in and then...she's out. |
Submission Name: She's Out
