Doormat

you disgust me with your wicked tongue

and your big black boots no one could fill

you think you have won

but just wait

wait

my wings are speading

and your doormat I'll no longer be

Author's Note

This might be my shortest poem ever. Not sure how I feel about it but it just came out of me and there it will stay.

Reviews

[Angi]

I actually like this, your shortest poem ever. A picture formed. A woman kneeling in front of someone powerful. All I could see were those boots. Her eyes lifted to mine, red lips lifted in one corner. Her dark, feathery wings just visible to me. She was about to fly.. I like pieces that make me see and/or feel something. You did that here.