The doorbell rang, I jumped to see
there stood three men in suits,
and bulges (were they meant for me?)
plus black and shiny boots.
...
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...while others who accepted this 'invitation' to damnation skipped along holding hands with cowardice, shame, and degradation. A powerful piece of writing. Gina.
Ahh, , that is what happened when I came to knock at your door, glad to see you are still writing poetry with a body full of shells. Do you know why clams don't share...? Their shellfish...that's why. Good poem, although I could have taken on three blokes for sure.
Shells do not kill - only the loss of one's dignity and I can see you have plenty of that. Susie.