My Wall

On my wall I spied a piece of twine

I picked it up and realized it was an old friend of mine

He said if I stayed here on my wall I’d stay apathetic and forgotten

Like a common city whore, I’d be used up and rotten

I scoffed at the twine, despite his credible advice

My wall was comfortable and the floor is cyanide

So the twine can whine and plead and try

But as long as I’m on my wall

I’ll rot but never die