Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again

You cannot ****
that
which is already dead!
Your toxic bullet
went straight through her heart;
so, it's useless
pointing another one  
at her messed up
head!

By Lady R.F. (C) 2017

How many more times
must I break,
before I can no longer
feel my heart's painful ache?

How many more times
must I fall,
before I can no longer
get up and stand tall
anymore at all?

How many more times
must I try,
before I can no longer
find any tears to cry?

How many more times
must I care,
before I can no longer
inhale any oxygenated air?

How many more times
must I die,
before I can no longer
find the will to try?


By Lady R.F ©2017

The more I write about your beauty,
the more the words fail to describe it.