Little Robots (Sign Of The Scorned)

Pleased myself. Did it right. Long, drawn out explanations. The context always surrounds. To some's disdain. But to most's benefit. Little robots, tight and apprehensive. Only supper time around here. They eat late in the city. Maybe we won't get hit. The taxi men are wild. Belly dancing girls and caviar.

It will creep up on you like a yearly fee. Engulfing all that might get in the way. Washed up flower girls sick of their life. Slender and haughty the sign of the scorned.