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Friends? I think not.

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You are a tyrant in small stature

You scream and yell and pick at me

Like a crow to a piece of flesh

You are picking me apart dear friend.

Even as I stick up for you when other’s talk.

You pick and pick, until I am bones.

I can’t stand your words,

Like needles,

They poke, and frankly,

I find you more offensive than charming.

Cowardly, you call me,

Because I do not squander and squeal-

When things aren’t going my way.

You find everything to be injustice toward you.

It seems everyday you are fighting a war against me, and others.

I am sorry my friend, but friends no longer can we be,

While you are standing high upon your hunting ground,

I am a kill that’s diced up and decayed,

I’m rotted meat on shattered bone.

Find another deer.

Comments (1)

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Love it! Way to stick up for yourself sister!

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