2 June 2012
You stand there with your weapon in hand,
This visit was impulsive, unplanned.
You grin at me and tell me it'll be fine.
Plain to see the only fear here is mine.
You start to chop, drag and slice,
I make no sound - you'd be able to hear mice.
You stand back and admire your work,
This fringe you've given me makes me look like a berk.
Opuss № I