I hate it when people don't want me to see things,
They always tell me 'curiosity killed that god forsaken cat'.
But they leave out the part that involved a .34 caliber pistol and a hardwood nail bat,
Or the fact that offering such closure isn't much of anything but wins.
Look,
I've been killed by my fair share of questions and quips.
I don't need you to tell me that knowing can hurt.
But when you smile so sweet and your words dangle at your lips,
We both know I'm not gonna listen to whatever you blurt.
Down in the dirty dingy streets,
An esteemed gentlemen covered in a fine red coat does his nightly sweeps.
A town covered in intrigue,
Every clue leading up to the main event where we all bow in our bittersweet bleed.
His eyes glisten with limitless sights,
Blinded by his own predicament and plights.
They propose death time and time again for you,
But the notions of the motions never follow through.
His eyes are like the glow of the moon,
Fur flying in full bloom.
He's a phantom phasing out of and into the dark,
Striding in every corner that they claim to be so stark.
He's seen things that cannot be,
A predicament dripping with cruel punishment waiting behind the mystery.
But what is the worth of a death in fire,
When once again ignites rebirth and a will to catch each and every scummy liar?
They always say the cat killed by curiosity,
But when you have nine lives is that really some kind of atrocity?
-end-
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-My Love, Assorted Poetry-
Poetry#63 in #poetry - 24/Nov/2021 - - - I have chosen to speak in routine rhyme time after time after time. But still I stand surprised at all inside my mind that I find. Be it good or be it bad, I have been given words and ways to tell you that I...
