Lint Sits In My Pockets

I am here!
Until I am not.
Any precautions you take,
Should be dropped and stopped.

Don't be intimidated by me, please.
Unlock that mind you block.
If I wanted to intimidate,
I'd approach as if a rabid fox.

Or...
Pretend I have something to give,
Like resources I know...
I lied about from the start!

And I am one to admit,
Lint sits in my pockets!
And lots of that I've got...
As if I hoarded it in storage as if stock.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!