She was like the lit flame of fire;
She wasnt to be touched and kept,
For it might burn your skin,
Leaving you with blisters of memories,She was just to be seen and admired,
Like the butterflies in a museum.
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Poetry[Highest rating :- #50] "His sweet succulent scent was so deeply sunken in my skin, Like the ink of poems absorbed by the pale paper. " ................................................... A collection of Random self-written poems, Both short and lo...
FIRE
She was like the lit flame of fire;
She wasnt to be touched and kept,
For it might burn your skin,
Leaving you with blisters of memories,She was just to be seen and admired,
Like the butterflies in a museum.