Jabberwok
It's not over . . . yet . . .Vipers slither from your lipsTwisted into clever quipsFueled by petty vengeful ireHow is it that you haven’t tired? Every chance to take a swipeThere you are with caustic bitesBriefly do your serpents restRetract their fangs, curl in their nest But never are they still for longEmerge anew, to right the wrongsThey perceive were heaped on youAnd help to heal the gaping wound I don’t lash out; I hold my tongueYet still your...