App Heart.

Dear, Dear, Dear,
what do we have here?
A fever I’d hate to catch?
Quick!
Hide your belongings!
I’m afraid I might detach,
from atrocities of untruths,
to regurgitated means of misuse.
What are you to me?
I waver –
in the thought of you being my saviour.
Yet,
you mix your verbals through a cocktail canister,
and recipe a living nightmare of an apocalyptic disaster.



 

© Thelma Von Salem @ https://thelmavonsalem.com

Image – Pinterest

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