No, Melissa, I am not to take this down
They pulled the trigger, I don't lend my crown
See this tears on the floor
Yet they ask for more
See your pencil stuck on my wrist
No worries, the blood's mine no risk
Hey Melissa don't cry
I'll give it back my my
Let me tell you something
No! Wipe your eyes I see tears brimming!
Have you heard about Saint?
A hypocrite he is Melissa, real is faint
Why, Melissa, are you shaking?
I told you not to cry, you're breaking!
Ha ha Luna lost it? Why, see?
I'm smiling do the same before I flee
YOU ARE READING
Hurled Thoughts
PoesíaWe hurl thoughts like we breathe every gust of wind... To the words never spoken. To the thoughts I have forgotten.
