Scribblings by Sarah


I am coiled tightly,
As I wait for the next wave.
You charge,
I bite.
You inspect the site.
Hit back with electrical force,

As I sink into despair.
You stick the needle in.
Trying to mask it with salty charm.
Your falsity resonates through us all.
You certainly pick your moments.
People without class.

By Sarah ©2018

The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 374

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