I Say Unto You

Of course, I’m a poet,

A scissor.

For now, I’m sitting on the edge of a chair,

Waiting for a strange to come to provoke me,

I know most of you watch tv,

I wont pierce you but,

My poem will stalk you.

Otherwise I know a bird called Stork,

It feed on worms.

I also know wild ravens,

They feed on maggots.

Let’s leave this writing here for now.

We’ll get back to it after my knife,

Has sliced through a sizzling piece of meat.

Mind you, National Braai Day has passed me by,

Before I turn into a liar-pathological,

I say unto you, It’s logical for you and I to first,

try to get to know each other better.

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