Wait till…
By Nomar Knight
Wait till they get a
load of me.
They are blind fools
you see.
While I hunt their
vulnerable flock.
Letting them protect
their stock.
It's the ninety-nine
percent that goes.
Disappearing into
the shadows.
Like fragile pieces
of glass.
Family units out of
gas.
Got to love
technology at hand.
Distracts them like
a marching band.
Too busy wasting
their lives.
Living in monotonous
hives.
While corporate
greed steals their knees.
They fork up the
extra fees.
Precious treasure
slips through their grasp.
I squeeze every
breath till the last gasp.
With morbid
discovery comes shock and awe
Widened eyes and
dropped jaws.
My masterpiece I
gift to them.
Leave them guessing
as to when.
Like frantic ants
under attack.
They scatter about
both front and back.
For death is pure
certainty.
Wait till they get a
load of me.
©2018 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills poetic presentation.
