Friday, 1 September 2017

The Rat

The Rat by Sacha Hope

I once knew a rat.
He was toothy, furry and fat, bitey and slimy and full of scat.
This rat, oh, this rat! Believing he was all that,
would race on the red mat. 
The stench from his lying teeth curdling stewing beef.
Graceless, greedy paws always searching for the next victim to claw.
Gleefully the rat would race along his imagined red, red mat.
Pilfering what he can along the way, I dare not advise any to stay.
away, away...
For this greedy, pilfering rat will not stop until his insides go splat.

The Lonely by Sacha Hope

Sadness, loud and clear ring through silent eyes,
Yet again you dealt in lies,
Eyes sombre and true never knew,
The freedom you feel by toying with our ties.
Would you weep, miss me when I die?
Would you chase another, continuing to vie for power?
Here I remain, prisoner, in your wretched tower.
Here I would die alone and anonymous,
Fed on lies.