If ever in doubt
I say "I don't know"
I won't speak out
Marking me your foe.
At first you felt good
Knowing I was in my place.
Yet you misunderstood,
As this wasn't the case.
I say that phrase
To avoid having to think
During your raze
So, to your level I won't sink.
You soon realised,
That it was all a tactic
That my ignorance was lies.
Yet it's still anticlimactic.
Because you can't make me speak,
Proving that I was never weak.
YOU ARE READING
Lachrymose
PoetryLachrymose /ˈlakrɪməʊs,ˈlakrɪməʊz/ adjective tearful or given to weeping. A collection of amateur prose and poetry illustrating the inner turmoil. Mainly a dumping ground for loose thoughts and ideas to be interpreted in whatever manner.
