Prompt 60 The Rolling Stones




Such lovely canines,

These roses which tug

So earnestly at my flesh

As I stoop to enslave them.

There is nothing quite

So demonizing

As the will to survive

It supersedes all reason

And accompanies so poorly

Any notions of heaven.

Here I am a woman

Who possesses far more

Than can be expended

(Love being of course infinite)

And even amongst flowers

I observe malice, albeit

A malice more reasonable

Than my own


I was inspired by The Rolling Stones “Mother’s Little Helper” obviously my poem doesn’t have at all the same vibe but it is about perpetual discontent something I have been thinking about a lot lately.