The Burned Child
Love has had his way with me.
Thus my heart is torn and maimed.
Since he took his play with me.
Cruel well the bow-boy aimed,
Shot and saw the feathered shaft
Dripping bright and bitter red.
He that shrugged his wings and laughed-
Better had he left me dead.
Sweet, why do you plead me, then,
Who have bled me so sore of that?
Could I bear it once again?...
Drop a hat, dear, drop a hat!
-Dorothy Parker
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1 comment:
As you know, I love Dorothy Parker. Haven't seen this one before. Seems perfect right now...
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