One of the things I like to do is write poetry. I’ve dabbled in this for many years like so many writers do. I’ve written hundreds. Some good, some bad, and some that are so intensely personal…they will never see the light of day. Others…I’m pretty happy to share.
This one I wrote after a night out to a club. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I wrote it while still at the club…on a coaster. I hope you enjoy it.
Predators
Predators Prowl,
Predators stalk,
Predators hunt,
These Predators talk,
Moving in closer,
Seducing their prey,
“Do you want to fuck me?”
I heard one predator say.
Anything they can think of,
To fell their victim,
To hear them scream,
Before they forget them.
Because predators Prowl.
And predators feed.
Predators hunt.
These Predators need.
It’s all about skill.
Never about luck.
All Predators hunt.
These Predators fuck
Andrea Bramhall
love it!
Thanks, Vic