Poets are sociopaths
masquerading as artists
who've convinced themselves they know how to connect to other people
while having no clue where their own heart is.
I'm just projecting my personal shortcomings onto all of you.
What if the clouds are weeping with glee
As they gently let their burdens go
Cherishing what it means to be free
Dancing in the wind, with ebb and flow?
Would be my last attempt to get your attention
I always thought we were the perfect match.
But matches are meant
and burn out.
Long forgotten the days of love
When a mere touch ignited the fire of lust
A single gaze was enough to drive you crazy
Long forgotten those days,
When I was your Lady
Sweet smiles, single text drove you wild
Laughter soon faded,
When unveiled two faced monster,
Intimates talks just cobwebs of disaster
Now, onto your next prey
Recreating the same game
No heed to broken heart
Innocence served on silver platter
Long forgotten the days of love,
Which actually mattered?