Little Fox

by Warwick Allen
Wednesday, 30 September 2015

The whites in your eyes,
The dim mirror hides.

So close, out of shot;
So much, not a lot.

Let's talk about this,
Little fox, my nemesis.

The thief is out there.
The thief is in here.

Tell me, who are you?
I know, already knew.

Saw through cheap disguise;
The soul in your eyes...

Is gone, do you miss it?
But mine, you won't get it.
But mine, it's well kept.

(recording on Suno)