The last 2 lines are perfect for this. Nicely done

Damn…you always take me somewhere with your poetry. This one is no exception. Give those last 2 lines their just dues. They’re fantastic, my friend

Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Raven. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Mary. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Means a lot to me. Appreciate you.

Damian

You’ve gotta give yourself more credit, Damian.
The last lines indeed suppressed my own voracious appetite. The last stanza is my favorite.
Nice spill my friend. xx
~P.G💋

That’s razor-sharp and sinuous—like a poem with fangs. The alliteration of “verbal viper” and “voracious appetite” creates a rhythmic coil of menace and desire, as if the speaker’s confronting a charmer who cloaks cunning beneath sweetness. The image of truth dangling just out of reach—“suspending the obvious”—gives this a wicked elegance.

Your writing has only improved with time, Damian. Your struggle with the ending paid off in a victorious way.

Great poem/

And ty for your comments, they’re much appreciated.

hello beautiful Fia I’m sorry you’re feeling icky I hope yu feel better soon drink some green tea with a little tumeric it should help 💕great write

Thank you, Ravens:)

Get well…..words need to be written.

😷

Get well, Fia. Even when you’re sick, you write incredibly. Get so me rest my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

Fia very sorry for your ailment. But you sure wrote a fantastic poem about it. Digs deep and you really made it an engaging read. Hope this comment finds you feeling better.

John

Sickness is sometimes like love. You don’t know if your coming or going.

Love it…

Karma has an army…& her day is still coming. It’s interesting watching the different responses people have to the insanity right now. Solid piece here

hello dearest Nick I know what you mean you know God loves his sheep but he has confided in me he loves his macabre people more…why do think this world is as it is? the devil if there is one is a fall guy we will burn someone in effigy and call it good at the end lol 💕

Powerfully penned, Nick. I get where you were going in this one my friend. It’s a wicked world out there. Appreciate you.

Damian

I love things which mingle the ethereal and the esoteric, and this does just that with a mystic flow. Well done 🌼

I don’t know or think about why I like things….but I like this very much.
🫠

A well written piece! I feel like it ties me to the earth somehow. I love it! Well done, Kasai! “)

I don’t even know where to start with this one. It’s such a deeply spiritual & personal piece. And so incredibly beautiful. If we had a reading list option, this would be on my list. It’s so good to see your words again

hello beautiful Kasai so lovely and happy this poem and tenderness in the end I am enchanted 💕

Your poem sang to me like a song of the earth and love. And I felt your journey through these profoundly spiritual words. Truly a deeply felt poem that I felt in my soul.

John

Im reminded of the old adage…if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Goes right back to your other poem…gotta read the fine print. Believe the lies, trust the cardboard cut out caricature, you get what you deserve. Hitting nails on the head with a jack-hammer, as usual, my friend

hello dearest Damian karma always has her way well said I am depressed it feels heavy this poem great write 💕

“Been swindled under some false pretense”, def felt that line.
Nice penned my friend.

“grass is dead on the other side”. The older I get the more I feel that. Great ink.

Damian, I read and reread your poem. Took me into the heart of chasing rainbows and the stark reality that often is at the other side. Superbly crafted poem.

John

That hits with a quiet force—like courage stitched from trembling threads. The contrast between silence and the mask of bravery unveils a moment of deep vulnerability, almost like a portrait of someone holding themselves together just enough to get by. It carries the weight of all the things left unsaid when fear takes the reins.