the skeleton in my closet.

The skeleton in my closet's shrunk.

I've added a pound of flesh;

I've grown an appetite greater,

so you can tone up the lashing-

of a tongue that excites my anguish.

I've added a pound of flesh,

from the oasis of your sainthood.

Pardon I if I've left you a skeleton,

I crave not for the snow or white cotton-

but for you to have a test,

for the skeleton in your closet.

I've grown an appetite greater;

my weight's now better,

mightier to be blown-

by the wind that impedes my muse.

©Bunguswa Brian ™