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A Lover's Scorn
He said he loved me,
but now I know the truth,
I could cry and play the fool,
wallow in sorrow for myself,
but I have better things to do.
I prefer instead to laugh
inside, as I plot and plan,
a secret demise, will it be
mine? I rather think it will
not.
A sprig of this, a dash
of that, throw some more
into the pot. Don't stop
there. I want more, watch
it boil and bubble over.
Catch that whiff, like a
stench in the air? Oh that
means it is working, coming
quite along.
I grin like the reaper,
I know my mind, though
others would say I am quite
mad, I assure you I never
been more sane.
Can such a crime go
unanswered? I say it quite
cannot. So I labor and toil
night and day--day and night.
Worry not, I will take care,
get it just right. You think
I would lie? Or chicken out
at the last crucial second?
No not I.
Here it comes, ahh yes, that
is it. So perfect and nice. It
will do just fine. You shall
see.
Now I only need to let
one drop into each lovers
glass. How gay they laugh,
they know not their own folly.
They shall be the fools.
Not me. How they would
beg and plead. Do you think
I would show them mercy?
You need not loose confidence
in me. I will get it right. Just so,
the way it is meant to be.
How there heads would
fall, slumped together,
won't they look sweet?
That is what they wanted
after all is it not?
I will be justified,
anyone could see, there
was nothing else to be done.
What more could I do?
I was forced to, so much
was at steak. You would
not have me miserable
now would you?
No, I thought not, so
dry your eyes, see them there
sleeping in one another's arms.
I put them there just like that.
They are sleeping aren't they?
How strange, you shake and
shake, yet they do not wake.
9:51 PM - 2/16/2006 -
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