A Prayer for Compassion.
I wasn’t where I was to complain
and never I thought you could explain,
all that desperation in your eye.
But stupid poor me did innocently buy
that you had indeed suffered from love,
but the hidden question was way above.
My twisted mind was hooked on your silent
when it was your honesty that was absent.
And to hear from another this fact
and to know it was all a rehearsed act,
I must recognize you came out impressively;
But this shot you took was deadly;
May I say - very disgusting it is,
when the truth comes out like this.
[written by B]
+Saturday May 5 @ 04:09pm
tagged as: B. poem.
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