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You claim you are a friend.
All I see when you smile
is the glint of rank teeth
showing traces of the last kill.

On the ground, a few splinters
from the most recent carnage.
I feel your hot breath
on the backs of my legs
as I sprint away.

Your kind moves in packs
but you keep glittering eyes on each other.
You earn well the name 'coward.'

Show me the true character
of a real friend
and maybe I'll catch my breath.

By slithr

© 2019 slithr (All rights reserved)


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