The wail of a desolate soul munched for a plate of deep-fried chicken.
By Richard Farekaye
Drug and kiss After a jab and miss. Truth ever so spoken by the Holy one, Leader of the youth, speaker of truth. How vile does a heart have to be? After a wonderful evening in your brand new engine; Curtained by horrors of unending goodbyes Mean’t to push the limits of time, And you thrust your fork-like hands onto her smooth thighs. Just spend the night, its late he says; With ravenous eyes locked on the now incapacitated price. Her “stop it” cries are like a high note soprano; Falling on deaf ears of a ruttish beast. The wail of a desolate soul munched for a plate of deep-fried chicken. All the whilst unknown to her, their price to pay For modern chivalry
