April 7, 2020 Or, A Poem About Failure

poetry

‘pity me’
he whispered in a heap
sobbing on the flagstones
as she looked on
unamused

‘I do’
she responded
and her fingers snapped
and hot fire sprung forth
to engulf him

he shrieked and flailed
with all his might
but in the end
there was only ash left
as she walked back inside
and drew the blinds
behind her

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s