I’m not interested in riches
Burning bridges
Living vicious
Or his digits

The way he itches
Making wishes
Hiding in ditches
Losing inches

I lost interest in the fires
All desires
Walking wires
Finding liars

He’s living slummy
Chasing honey
A gifted rummy
Acting dummy

My eyes were faded
Mostly jaded
Temporarily sedated
Now I’m frustrated

I’m over his wall
Yet still I crawl
A broken doll
Hating his protocol

© Delia Ross. 2020

If you dig my writing, you can support this advertisement free blog by subscribing to my Patreon here (please & thank you):

Keep up with me on Instagram here:

I follow back on Twitter and you can follow me here:

If you dug this post, please hit the like button or drop me a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Website Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: