written by: Michael Shea
In plain spite of me.
I try not to announce me
as I flounce past those who would pounce
trying to peddle an ounce to me.
Try not to be
Just this once as I ponce
past those who would sconce me.
Try hide in me
Now as I thrice
Slide past the vendors of ice
Who would happily make slice of me.
I try not to announce that I try not to be the one I hide in me.
They pounced me, they sconced me and made slice of me.
I don’t want to be.
This chilly balm I don’t want in me makes lies seem real to me.
They cannot stop the supply of chefs that hide in plain sight you see.
They do not hide you see, they live next door to me.
They’re next to you too, just knock and see…
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