The Spell

The words flow by without
so much a sigh

Hearing it’s a lie, and to
ponder why.

So many do cry from words
up on high

Others do try but only
manage goodbye


No Trip or trill, never
heeding of spill

Helping you still, to
succumb to their will

Not using a pill or
drinking their swill

They’ll have their good
fill without any bill


Its magic they say, for
use you will pay

Likely today, there’s no
other way

No use to belay, you
cannot betray

You are nothing but hay
and potters clay


©2010-2011 Michael Yost

5 responses to “The Spell

  1. Nice poem. It puts a spell on the reader, and entices one to think.


  2. Pingback: Thursday Poets Rally Week 34 (December 2-8) | Jingle

  3. Your words flow like water in a stream…Softly, quietly and gently…


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