By Nia Lloyd Williams

My senses bristle; I feel quite sick
I know that you think I’m thick
My intuition screams: don’t get near
It tells me all I need to hear

You walk the walk and talk the talk
It’s so strange that I want to balk
Run away somewhere and hide
Don’t want you on my side

Your mouth says one thing but your eyes are dead
My intuition screams and fills me with dread
Beware the one who pretends to be a friend
When will this lying ever end?

Take your fluffy bumper stickers with you
I certainly don’t need someone like you
From my anxiety, give me some peace
From screaming intuition I need to be released
I will balance my chakras and pray to my God
And hope he will spare me from those that are odd

Fat lama make money from the things you own

Bring me kindness, love and care
Show me God that you are there
Beside me when things get tough
Be gone, charlatan, I have had enough

%d bloggers like this: