He's sickA Poem by Ling WawaHe's sick And I'm a selfish b***h For thinking my time is my own But pray argue with the thing that demands I give it all my minutes That I must confine to my room to carry out its bidding Of thinking thoughts that go around and around But what an excuse To deem an invisible creature As the perpetrator of your squalid ways Surely you can just blink and it will go away Or some wishing or willing will do How dare you even imply that is is a being that need be argued with How dare you Poor insignificant child But surely whilst you were in your coop Thinking of how you might do great things with your many tomorrows Could you not also think how he might not be here. © 2017 Ling WawaFeatured Review
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StatsAuthorLing WawaUnited KingdomAboutPoetry is a playful art that plucks the strings of your mind in ways you've never heard before. A melody that has been there all along under the veil of your skin more..Writing
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