My Old Poems (2011)

The Florist #21

I wonder

If you even realize

I ponder

If you terrorize

All of the nations

In this federation

With public relations

So much for this adoration

Think back 

Find out

What you lack

Find another route

Because I am done

With this assassination 

About to run

With this retaliation 

I am on the outside

Looking around

There's no place to hide

Don't make a sound

Before he takes you away

To a place hidden in the forest

To your dismay

He is hidden as a florist

He will deceive

All that come his way

And reprieve

All those who get caught in his ray

Of deception

And malice

A bad reputation 

Filled his palace

Can you take a hint

Stay away from the florist

Who left a dent

In the forest

Is where he remains

Where he stalks

He comes out when it rains

And walks

Outside his swamp

With following crowds

He holds a lamp

They wear shrouds

He lives 

Among the normal

He strives 

With the formal

He wears a suit

That is very expensive

He eats fruit

That is very extensive

He crawls behind the skin

Of what you think is reality

he hides in your den

But what is virtuality 

Is it real

Or is it fake

Do you feel 

Your mistake

The florist

Wants to make you a deal

In the forest

That is real

But you know

That it is fake

His rosy cheeks glow

You realize his mistake

He has taken many a life 

In this town

With this butterfly knife

You frown

You look down

And realized

With a frown

And was terrorized

That I held that same knife

Which in vain

Took a life

Now you have gone insane