poem

[anonymousuret001]

the throat i seek he who i do not know peeks

though i am hinding behind myself another self stares at him standing in an angle of the farmer

the throat i slice he who i do know puts on more spice

i say the spice causes tears down my cheeks and he i do not know if i do know gives me a potion of tricks

oh help me myself i cry though nobody hears it while every body hears it within

then i take a hike a hike from the whole i come out and the worm is killed with a shovel

i seek my throat though i do not know

where does mine lie how does it always start. the lie.