What a sight we must have been, clinging on to each other for dear life
Only to later realize, I was a tool of convenience
For long I have known, it wasn't you who carried the knife
Which would Later pierce me to my own lenience
I was a fitting example of one becoming An accessory
To an infatuated lunatic lovers that can only say sorry
I was blindly binded by hove love
Through prayers I've hope to become a mate of her soul,that's right, to the lord above
Am a prey spinning around in a black-widow's web
Made me pitch myself, though rather I should have pinched myself
A fair share of shocks and surprise, traumatic disbelief learn through step by step
Results in an empty trust, another addition to my shady shelf
If determined by the Oscar, here's to another nominated actress
And only won with temptation of sharing a mattress
No shame, No Guilt, No litany would ever conceal her
That's right bitch, this one's for you motherf—
YOU ARE READING
To the Hallway,
PoetryHouse of words that is riddled with a hint of color and a smear of conscience, beneath the impeccable canvas of stainless mind.
