Tar
How could you have
expected me to defend you,
when you had, without an explanation,
bid me adieu?
How could you expect me
to wipe your slate clean
when you were never
what you seemed?
Your stain remains though
your traces have been
blurred and sugarcoated,
all the trouble you caused
hidden under your hood,
I receive the blasphemy
and you're a whore for the applause,
Your lungs coated in tar,
you inhale smoke
and exhale bitterness
just to criticize
what you cannot polarize;
right, wrong, and too much.
- Crimsyy
A/N: Thankyou for reading and for your support so far, I really do appreciate it. Vote and comment please - but only if you want to (:
YOU ARE READING
Burn (#Wattys2017)
PoetryThere are cigarette lighters everywhere you turn. Welcome to my new book, Burn! I hope you enjoy it (: - Crimsyy
