248 (street rats)

It was Friday night for most of the world
And my stomach nearly tore open, according
To the pattern on the floor, bloody paws,
Telling me I don't want to work anymore
As the lowest paid artist on earth.
I want to go outside and help the lonely,
Poorly clothed rats with inadequate diets
Having trouble with their sleep patterns.
They're getting cold and I wonder what we'll
All be doing in the moments when they die.

Written by Mr Woods on 05/01/18
© 2018 Anthony Woods

Share Options



Views all time: 61


night, earth, sleep, work, Friday

Login or register to rate and leave comments