Senility

By Michelle Holt

Photo courtesy fullmoongraphics

Her tongue is her weapon

Spewing venom my way

Her lips are a token

To hell I must say

Her evil intent is easy to read

Her mind’s not as sharp

As she tries to hurt me

She is sick I do say

Sick in the mind

But nobody listens

They think she is fine

All the lives she has touched

With her warped wicked ways

Shall unravel before her

In the end of her days

The movies will roll

Right before her she’ll see

The lives she has touched

The chaos she breeds

It grieves me to know the state of her mind

A measure of kindness that one never finds