Eyes bloodshot red,
pylon you opened,
my naive soul reaches out for you
unaware it would be the last
Your body affixed to the dirt
when I long for the touch of you
your red rosy lips won't speak
like it has withered and stringed along
with the ashes in your heart
that once burned for me
That sentimental moment
I knew you wanted me to go
maybe I've been too egocentric
as I've had demanded you
to stay too long
But why put up an act
like you needed me
when you wanted me long gone?
Beautiful face;a rose
Ugly heart;sharp thorns
Feign emotions;reek stems
your worst lies;withered petals
seems to be kept by the blind
like it's still blooming.
N.I
YOU ARE READING
Dead Poets
Poetry"Poets are among the damned, cursed to commiserate over their loss, to reach with outstretched hands-" -Lang Leav
