A Can of Worms!

"Crumple, crumple, little can,
How I wonder what you are!"

Lifting the lid out they come,
thoughts bold, desires, precious hopes,
after all it occurs they are a lie;
no cotton wool or buds to soak my blood,
miserable wound of yesterday's sore.
Deluded minds open. Unravel
misguided fortunes. Undress
promiscuous casual babblings. Unearth
prosthetic beauty.
Naked truth a lie,
masked appraisal.

"Crumple, crumple, little can,
How I wonder what you are!"

Desperately unfaithful
disparaging thought,
twisted offence, writhing
worms of canned intent;
moments of displeasure,
swathing, squirming mass.

"Would you like to talk?"
"How about dinner, be round at 9 !"

"Crumple, crumple, little can,
How I wonder what you are!"