Through the Eyes of a MouseA Chapter by Robert Francis Callaciwheres the cheese...Through the Eyes of a Mouse His music makes my ears bleed--- the
seeds of doubt sprouts about It
fills my head with an ancient dread- that
the dead will rise from the fiddlers lies and
they’ll feed and gnaw at my flesh and
bone~
what’s
a little mouse to do…
nowhere
to run! nowhere
to hide! nowhere
to cry! only
to die I
dare not deny---
The
spittle of the fiddlers tune…
© 2016 Robert Francis Callaci |
AuthorRobert Francis CallaciPort Richey, FLAboutMy passion is writing- I've been writing a mythological tale on the many facets and faces of GOD- I've been a net poet for the past seventeen years- I'm a former admin at lit .org and active one (Patr.. more..Writing
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