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Red is the colour of love,
but it is also the colour of danger.
Where there should be a dove,
there is only a dagger.
You loved me once,
and I loved you dearly too,
but now I am only a dunce
hit with that vase you threw.
Why do you hate me?
I'm sorry but I must ask you so,
for I long so desperately to be free,
because I cannot take another blow.
But I cannot leave until I know,
what turned your love so bitter,
out there in the winter snow.
━━━━━━
YOU ARE READING
Unspoken Serenades: Poetry
PoetryA collection of my poetry. I am quite the amateur so don't expect anything ground-breaking. This book will feature romantic, erotic and humorous poetry. It will serve as a poetry journal and will be updated regularly whenever I happen to write somet...
