Oh Juliet, oh dearest Juliet
How did it feel?
Hardly thirteen years old,
At a party, you met the most handsome man to ever behold
You fell in love almost instantly
Sweet nothings whispered from below your balcony
Your parents would never allow it
It would surely end in strife
But you decided to defy it
And it cost you, your very life
As your lover was slowly dying
By the poison of your fretful lying
Was it regret you felt?
Were you proud of the cards you dealt?
As you twirled the dagger in your hand
Was love really worth your end?
Star crossed lovers or not
Was that love worth the killing shot?
YOU ARE READING
Bleeding Ink
PoetryI will not pretend to be a poet. I simply lace letters into words, words in verses and these verses are my feeling which have slowly bled through the pages of my notebook. This is my "Bleeding Ink".
