Doll face, doll
Dead eyes, small, small, small
Cherry lips and rosey cheeks
That is what a good girl means
Hypnotic smile
She melts your heart
A different kind of street smart
Your inhibitions disappear
And you follow her
Where she keeps them all, tied up
You'd expect them to run away
Funny thing love is
They beg not for mercy
Cause they know she only love me
YOU ARE READING
Blur
PoetryThings I don't understand • Self reflection, grief, growth, and so much more
