deepundergroundpoetry.com
A short entry from, "All things relative"
Poison. Solace our lives. And she lies there with an old shoelace tying off her arm. I have never seen anything so beautiful, its the wit of her charm. She gives me her eyes one last time; A victim, a noxious heart, a spurious provoker of manipulation, corruption. Mother nature's tragedy. She smirks. She slips away.
Published 21st Dec 2012
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21st Dec 2012 5:01am
21st Dec 2012 5:47am
