Embedded
I reached into a flower pot to pick the refuse from, a passer by had left it there, the lazy suited scum.The pot it sits upon the edge of a busy fithy way.
Where each day i play the clown, for dollars....they call it pay.
But snatch out there my hand..I did, for something had deeply bit it sore.
Was a hypodermic, embedded, that on I focused my scorn.
Who I railed would do this such?
I spilt my foulest verb.
To leave this precious gift.
And gift me thus with worried fright, that i may find a new....a new friend buried within myself, one whom I did not choose.
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