A trouble is all you are
I could tell even from afar
Your presence speaks of death
Along with the smoke from your cigarette
You thoroughly search the crowd
And my sorry heart started thumping loud
When your piercing eyes landed to mine
I fumbled and drank my red wine
You walk across the dance floor
Past the drunks and the whores
You stopped before me
I stood for you to see
"Are you Mrs. Finea Deborne?"
I nodded, my throat full of guilty thorns
"You are under arrest."
And that's when I knew, I must have been careless and left some evidence.
BINABASA MO ANG
Polaris
PoetryCollection of poems. [Poem] - A verbal composition designed to convey experiences, ideas, or emotions in a vivid and imaginative way, characterized by the use of language chosen for its sound and suggestive power and by the use of literary technique...
