Monday, December 12, 2011

Dirty Finger

He is standing in the middle,
So proud and so idle,
With his fellow man down,
He stand straight without a frown.

Blocking her sight,
Makes her wanna fight,
Blocking her way,
Making her wanna stay.

In the narrow street,
So silent, so discreet,
He walks toward her,
She runs slowly and tender.

Follows her steps to doom,
On a crowded restroom,
Washes his dirty fingers,
She thought he wanna linger.

Afraid in the dark,
Shivering in such bark,
Alone with a dirty gentleman,
Who fell in the mud protecting the pretty woman.

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