Roses are red
Red as the blood from my heart you made to bleed
Violets are blue
Blue as the moon at nights I cry myself to sleep
Sugar is sweet
Sweet as the promises you never seem to keep
..And so are you
Never again, arsehole, will you make me weep.
MLS 01-08-08
YOU ARE READING
Stare at the Window and Rhyme
PoetryWriting is like mind-pooping. And oh, it rhymes.
