'No excuse' has been given short - shrift
by Mark Heathcote
My heart is too cumbersome to lift.
A mop head rose after a shower.
Wish, I didn't care for him, didn't flounder.
… I've given him his marching orders
He's told his last lie. I can't help but cry,
The die has been, cast. Bring in the lawyers
I'll show him thorns a rose not to defy.
I'll cut him to ribbons. And show him
I can be bicolour like Rosa Mundi
The white of my heart of his crimson
Splattering's laced imperturbably.