Little Miss Misery

A scion marked from Old Lizzies Hand
Collar trim, with an axe potent grand
Butcher sister, to Mrs Kotche’s intellect
Calculate the sums of the souls she collects,
Dear misery, your charade is an annulled
Vacate to the dirt, from the dump where you crawled
I tried to be negotiable but you never let me in
No pacifist’s consideration for your reptilian skin

There’s no smile for that girl,
Troubled Lizard with hair fizzled
Wears T-shirts and sweat pants
To show that she’s not that
Reclines in her chair, with an esteemed heir
Corpulent paranoid, when her retina’s not there
Charades equality for camaraderie
Though it’s full of bull diplomacy
Liberalisms Pravda shoes
to keep her fascist soles clean
Plays the punk chick with finesse

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poem by Kevin Patrick
Added by Poetry Lover
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