• Ink I’ll Never Trace

    by  • July 17, 2015 • Waxing Poetic • 0 Comments

    A plague on your assumptions! They’re . . . ummmm . . .
    wrong, to put it kindly. Sheer flimflam.
    What you assume of me, that’s what I’m not.
    You don’t know me. You only know the sham
    each wild assumption makes of its own scum.

    You think you get to speak for me, say what?
    To judge for me beliefs you think I’ve got?
    By your assumptions I’m a whore, a slut,
    a bitch, a pile of dirty shitty snot?

    I’ve given up not failing your final exam.
    The reason, you assume, is I’m too dumb
    to measure up to your assumptions’ smut.
    Whether I tell you the truth or remain mum,
    to you I’m nothing but your assumptions’ scam.

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