The Complainer and the Con-Artist, by Levina_Michelle Subscribe to rss feed for Levina_Michelle

Harsh wind blows a face and chills the nose
Cold hearts remain hard and dark thoughts shed no light
Eyes scan over the horizon but nothing grows
Only the harsh ravens take flight

A man stands still in the bitter frost
Waiting, wait, for fresh new meat
The cruel environment continues on, leaving the mind lost
The man just stands there; waiting for the one he will

Time passes
Carrying on that which could drive a man mad
Finally a young woman crosses were there would be grasses
The man’s face soon fills with glad

She is dainty and cheerful
Not having a clue for what awaits her
Not knowing those green eyes will soon be tearful
Or everything she knows and loves will soon be a blur

He grabs her attention with his mysterious ways and devilish
Asking her the business of her being and existence
Saying there should be no interference
She begins to put between them, distance

The woman fed him her fear
Starting to be cleanse of all good
Just being in the presence of this man causes her body to
want to tear
Perhaps he is just misunderstood?

Have you a purpose? If not anything to trade? Says he
She is silent
The words sting like that of a bee
She wonders soon things will turn violent

He talks of life and his miserable existence
How he wishes it could all change
The woman asks if his words were so would he have any
To things that involves pain and that that is strange

He asks her the same
Again she says nothing
So quiet so tame
Not even the icy snow will cling

They continue to talk
Of pain and suffering
But watching each other more that a hawk
Neither move nor cringe

The man learns much
Turing away
For his life he still wishes clutch
The sky turns gray

The woman spoke in a hushed tone
I know what you are
Where you came from and of your heart of stone
Those you think of scars

You believe your life is worthless
How you want to die and quit
Yet with comes to giving it up you second-guess
Why do you not admit?

You do not deserve to belong
On this planet
Of the strong
Dripping on your neck beads of sweat

Nerves and worry fled the man
Thinking fast he ran
Now knowing his life was a scam
His friends, partners, and clan

Darkness draped over the sky
A cry
Then nothing to defy
Not even an ally

Then a
Drip drop
Drip drop
The blood falls in the new born puddle

There he lies
No soul
No love
No life

He constantly complained of life
To he bossy his kids
And his wife

A new woman came along
He complained to her as well
But to bad his whining was soon to all gone
For this woman originated from the depths of hell

He spoke of hating his existence
Wanting everything to end
With out any assistance
He did not intend

For the woman
To steal his soul
And cut short his life span
Now he rots in a firry hole

And the woman so fair
Walks on
With no one to spare
For her sympathy, her innocence, her kindly, all a con


Posted: 2010-11-05 15:25:28 UTC

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