She had the prettiest face,
the most expensive dress,
moved along with the high,
rolled her eyes to the low,
wore golden boots,
walked like she was in paris,
red lips and smokey eyes,
all she was seeking was atention,
with a cold heart,
forgotten where she came from,
forgotten who sent her down,
forgotten what the other side of the world is doing,
just forgotten everything.
YOU ARE READING
Poem a day
PoesiaWritting was never her favourite thing to do but soon came loneliness and took over, she was away from everything. Nothing went the way she planed, she was tired of life. A pen and a paper became her best friends. She began to write,write poems on h...
