The aroma of violence was prevalent the moment you ordered extra mustard on your sandwich. So violent and misguided, you throw food like a temper tantrum child. Your high chair is not tall enough for you to be admired by pygmy love slaves so you try to stand on my shoulders. Mustard and shredded lettuce stains my clothing as you go on unfolding violent events which have nothing to do with me. I dislike this angst of yours for anger isn't soothing like sweet ketchup my dear. Large anarchist you have ignorance for me. Is this the special of the day or perhaps an appetizer made just for me? Gawk! Havoc runs your life like a troubled spy who isn't employed and need's phony identity and masquerade. Followers of fate they sway to your shake. You speak out of synchronization just to fool others and make yourself seem larger than conscience gods. But, let me set your pallet straight Miss Overreacting: Here is a mirror that won't crack even to your reptilian gaze.
Reason for writing:
This is jason's friend, Lori, submitting this poem for him.
I invite you to see more of his poetry at http://www.angelfire.com/pages0/pezzy/jspoetry.html
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View more poems by jason dematteo ~~ aquarius.