He spun lies into beautiful webs,
wrote tales of how he loved me too much
to let me leave, perfectly placed to be read
by any naive eyes to think it meant something,  
whispered half-truths to make any girl swoon,
romance artfully crafted to disguise the ugly truth
The Master Wordsmith, Lord of the Sentence,
King of English Language, Syntax, and Diction
knowing through the power of persuasive poetry
that I would stay if I only saw
his pretty, perfect words;
nothing less, and nothing more