She was raw
Naive
Easy to fool
He was dynamite
Veteran
Ached temptation
Yet fate
Was a malevolent
Child’s play
Twisted
Softened hearts
He played
She fell
Broken
Shattered hearts
He regrets
She moves on
It’s too late.
YOU ARE READING
bottled up thoughts
Poesíathoughts into words, words into scribbles. copyright © 2014 quixotical [poetry #439/ random #902]
