everyone knows
her, and loves
her, and she
wishes she could
return the favor,
but she can't.
she is sly though
with the kiss,
the embrace.
her hand is in your
pocket, and with
each smile
comes a twist
and a cut
to take part
of you away.
and in her own
mind she is queen
for a day in her
slow small town
parade. her crown
tilted, her world
a sad and lonely
masquerade.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment