Mistake
"When I saw contempt and disguist in his eyes,
I knew I had made a mistake,
By going over to him and proposing,
A rose flower in my hands.
He clenched his jaw,
Glaring at me,
His hands busy brushing away fringes of
Dark brown hair that fell on his face
in a rather irritated manner,
as I gulped, looking anywhere,
But his eyes,
Iridescent blues, so full of hate.
His face, inhumanly handsome,
Was colder than ever,
His lubricious lips pulled in a smirk
as he grabbed the rose from my hand,
Plucking each of its petals
and throwing it at my face.
Then and there I heard a sound,
And it was my heart being shattered to pieces.
And all because of me clinging to my crush for ten years.
Those amazing blues would never appreciate
My dull brown orbs,
That perfectly sculptured face deserved more
than this ugly assymetrical face of mine,
Those pink, luscious lips won't mould
Into my chapped ones,
A person as charismatic as him,
Would never be mine.
This was all I could tell myself
Before breaking down into tears"
