CHAPTER VI
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What a lie, what a lie
Euphoric spark turning blisters
With your lie, o I sigh
As I cry to my sisters
A spare, a spare am I
Who is the spare
And who is the eye?
But to answer, you wouldn't dare
Up that hill, o that hill
'Twas where I felt your purity
But up that hill, the first of thrill
You brought her there; no honesty
What am I, dear blue
All I know is a backup plan
You'd nigh near like an unwanted flue
I never knew and never ran
A friend or foe,
You laugh and bicker with her
What's she to you?
Our romance took such a stir
So cold, o so cold
Yet I have this right to remain silent
So bold, dear blue, you're bold
So bold to do something strident
You lie, so I sigh
Hide, hide the facts of her
Go and swiftly pass by;
Cold, cold, it's too cold to bare
With this, I'll try not to cry
Mine, you were never mine
E'ery sweet hi, now's the last bye
Cold, so cold at the end of the line
⊶⊰ ⊱⊷
To blue
YOU ARE READING
A Poet's Diary
PoetryShe doesn't simply cry when she's upset or disappointed, nor does she just smile all day when she finally get to grab that tiny bit of hope. It would be hard for her to talk about love just as simply as bringing up a favorite song, nor would it be e...
