You ask me why
I like the guy
Whose faith it is
That every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
You ask I s'pose
The reason why
I do one thing
and not another.
I could tell you,
''Tain't your business.'
I could take a breath of air and sigh,
'I don't know. I've no idea, your Lizness.'
I could fabricate a lie,
My ignorance to cover.
Let you know my little lie.
Meditate upon my lie.
Leave me to my favourite guy.
douglas scotney
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/liz-s-question/
