Poems By Emma Plunkett

Lethal.
Silent permission granted;
take control.
Auto take
The decision’s made.
BANG!
FIRE!
The show is axed
and the dancing girls all disappear! Aaaah.
Now do your worst.
Kissing cider kisses,
sour handshakes.
No more batteries,
no more feline exposure,
no more head cleaner.

31.05.00

Tags: abstract, poem

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