Slither on-Poetry (easy rhyme scheme)-3

Slither on, she’ll do the dance
Of worms and grime and happenstance
Warping, and draining, like wet, crumpled paper
And hope, not pray, for life like new-agers
To silence their lies of blind ambition
And write down their mottos of fame and contrition 
In notebooks with spirals in words and in metal
Not making much sense, letting dust settle
Going on to be kings, titans of myths
In Italian suits, holding credit card slips

Slither and flail
She’ll hate herself, her mind a gale
Screaming and whining of paper cuts
Compared to gunshots, she knows she’s a slut
For ideas of sorrow and arrogance backward
Holding her life away, as if it were an attacker
Of all things she hates
Like the black clothed bastards that carpet the late
To the party, gold-lined gutters
Knowing it’s bad to cry at utters
Of pity and false love
She’ll still drown in, an Oil-choked dove

Slither and toil
In Easy Street’s soils
She’ll get herself up to the falsely magnanimous standards
Of mice-like goals, to feel the shower of looks and ganders
And coal miner’s crumble like dirt from the dark rock ceilings
While love struck bimbos wail over their tuxedoed suitor’s failings
The world is all round, yet shapely and strange
For her eyes are filled with the chemically feigned

Slither and bumble
She’ll take, but she’ll wonder
Why everything sounds, written in ink
Like the wailing infant’s cries
Ill-fitting with, the nubile lies
She’ll tell in her haste
To limp past the face
Of youthful light that grows dark
In the neon signs of the disco-bar larks
Slither still
For the mind-slurring swill
She’ll find in the basement house parties
And take all her grace, her hair all knotty
Gripped in her hand to keep it away
From vileness pouring, from her lips it’ll say
Words in groans, promises in apology
To see any kept a rare commodity

Slither and shake
She’ll cry and she’ll quake
As now she can see
In fluorescent glee
She danced on down
‘Till the drinks turned her frown
This moment’s dispositive
The stick, reads positive

Slither close, down to the ground
Like the snake she used to be in pounds
As weeks go on by, she lays on the lawn
Waiting and hoping, dreaming of life with her fawn
And she’ll move on, as if pulled to the sky
Moments after, no time for goodbye
She’ll lose all her sense, and all of her dreams
We see her fall, oh so it seems