Schism

 

Before you smote upon my door
Make sure you know who lurks inside,
Tonight I’ll answer to a whore,
But only if I’m Mr Hyde.

So if you’re wearing common scents,
Fishnet tights and stiletto heels,
Don’t give the good doctor offence
By proferring your shady deals.

If on the other hand you’re dressed
In virgin white, chaste as a nun,
You’ll leave this place sorely distressed
At Mr Hyde’s idea of fun.

The only thing you have to do
Before you dare to turn the key
Is ascertain for certain who
It is that you have come to see.

But there’s no point your asking me
Who’s there, I cannot answer you,
It’s not that I don’t want to, see,
It’s just I haven’t got a clue.

Back To Poetry Index