WORMS

Talk about a can of worms!
These things inside my head
charging about like summer storms
all my pleasant memories have fled
like fading strains from a lonely violin
nothing other than echoes remain
when these worms start their crawlin’
all that’s left is a head filled with pain

Come out from there you horrid thoughts!
find another vacant space to occupy
before I take this stupid gun I bought
and wish you all goodbye!!!

—–Jerry Marks

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