Twist 6

it hurts him to see you lag behind
when you are much better
the way you write about evil

his way of putting good becomes a tail
the horns of the stag are always beautiful
on the head
it runs as nimble as needle
and the threads simply land smoothly on the eye
passing the labyrinths of
lies.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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