See this man? So weak and hollow,
no one there for him to follow,
burnt and broken
as a token,
as a token of his greed
and his dipped-in venom seed,
hates himself to self-destruction,
is exposed to every suction,
needs some love - a tiny potion
and a fraction of emotion,
cuts it off by evil words,
killing sympathy like birds,
feeding hubris like a fire,
wallowing in envious mire,
reeking of his enemies' traces,
leaving nothing but torn mazes,
yet in prison: a mino(r) - taur ...
and moreover: what a boor!
l4. Juli 2o14
Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Inge Hoppe-Grabinger.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 14.07.2014.