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Mouse


there is a mouse 

there in your house

that can only be seen

if wanted

 

put on your blouse

it whispers to rouse 

its wisdom always keen

so daunted

 

you go for the day 

the good ones you spay

declining what fears

you most

 

sounding wicked brays 

stomping hooves with a neigh

juicing out the tears

need host

 

‘till the world is of you

and pasterns turn the screw

the bloodthirsty animals

you are

 

slaughtered- your arms they chew 

to carry out a coup

the mouse hidden from the cannibals

bizzare

 

it’s just because you ignored the mouse

 

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owenhannon2

A teen that is dedicated to poetry and its role to guide and help the lives of readers, not to lecture them on cliches.

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