In front of me,
the charm itself sleeps.
If she unclothes herself,
will be blind your, my, eyes.
Even the sun goes down at night
for it will lose facing her.
In my yesterday place,
a guy, an ugly one, sleeps.
On the raven pillow, she gave me,
In my pyjamas,
he filled my presence's absence.
He does as I've done.
I'm ugly,
yet Venus-like seek me.
He will be in my today's place
when she will kill, as she did to me,
him for wealth.
To hell with emotions.
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PoetryHighest rank: #164 :) This book is a poetry one. You may, very likely, relate to what I've written so far. For I'm the same as anyone else, but with a little twist which is I can write poetry (I'm no Baudelaire). It is hard to write about poetry for...
