The Santa Ramona Chronicles

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Dear penpal,

September 8, 2018



You paint words of threat and lie,

On bended ear, you claim they cry.

But only cowards hide their face,

Alone, in darkness embrace.


You take a life, a misery to agonize,

A silent ache, her demise.

You want a voice, a deed in lights,

A way to air your sick delights.


But you will learn, your knock means naught,

This “bore” will not be forced, will not be bought.

So keep your Princess, close at hand,

For she’s the only one you can command.




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