Petes Poetry
Murderers and thieves.
Needles and pins, shanks and barbs.
Plenty been in and out, through this bard.
Words can't describe the end result.
For their motivation, probably my fault.
But the right to wrong is stuck in my guts.
As their answers penetrate in slices and cuts.
So pin cushion, lump of meat, lamb to the slaughter.
As if my sacrifice warranted ,and thee purer than artic water.
So the dirt and scum collect, in organs, in glands.
And their answers numerious and different as grains of sand.
So wash me clean, de-flea me, give me a collar and lead.
It rains cats and dogs, I guess there's no real need.
So I am sorry, I wish I had the answers you desire.
I guess murderers and thieves also make the best liars.
Peter Riddoch.
Plenty been in and out, through this bard.
Words can't describe the end result.
For their motivation, probably my fault.
But the right to wrong is stuck in my guts.
As their answers penetrate in slices and cuts.
So pin cushion, lump of meat, lamb to the slaughter.
As if my sacrifice warranted ,and thee purer than artic water.
So the dirt and scum collect, in organs, in glands.
And their answers numerious and different as grains of sand.
So wash me clean, de-flea me, give me a collar and lead.
It rains cats and dogs, I guess there's no real need.
So I am sorry, I wish I had the answers you desire.
I guess murderers and thieves also make the best liars.
Peter Riddoch.
