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The Devil's Three Hands
October 21, 2009
I was framed for being who I am not.
A trickster, with deceptions rolling
off my sleeves while slithering all across
the floor, creating illusions of where I am.
And with a final silent bow,
I left before I was gone.
© Michelle B., Blairsville, GA
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This article has 1 comment.
yvonne104 said...
on Oct. 27 2009 at 11:18 pm
I love your poem!!! For some reason i cant think of the words to describe what i imagine when i read it.
