Liar
Liar. Liar
Liar. Liar
Liar Liar. Liar. Liar.
Liar
Liar
Liar
Young since I heard you, trying to love. Passion I bet, short of a penny.
Wasn't it his embrace? Initial misconceptions crack, I found out why I moan.
Save your mouth, luscious. Imagine your gene pool. If I give you a village would it be enough? Perfect, perfect disorder.
No one person is ever enough.
YOU ARE READING
Ghosts in my yard
PoetryThis book is dedicated to relationships, human and substance,it's all the same. Pain will leave enough scar tissue for a suit of armor but love, it is out there.