Cold
Water
Dank
glares
drip
cold water
on
victims’ hearts.
Another
scarf unraveled..
The
crestfallen,
stopped
dead in their tracks,
with no
way forward.
The
boomerang of gossip grows,
as the
flock follows the ram.
The wet
wool of caustic words
proves
malodorous.
Speaking
of smell,
there’s
an intravenous scent of fear
reeking
out from the
misery
of their own herd,
and
from the possibility
that
they may become the bullseye
for the
next wave of disallowance.
Self-imagined
stalking knights,
who
think they have the most to gain,
imbuing
the world with beefy fictions,
using
hot panther breath that stalks.
Masters
of disastrous,
deceitful
words
on the street,
now
dripping
cold
sweats
from
their own skin,
as well
as cold water
thrown
onto
their own hearts.
