Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2019
You flip your fingers through your ever shining locks and gracefully saunter through the halls

The heads turn as the masses gleefully greet and smile at the beauty of how your pieces are placed together oh so precisely

You held power, plenty of it
And I was in the way

It was strange to see the reactions on the faces of familiars when I told them of the crushing things you could accomplish.
None wanted to believe that such a beauty could hold such a bite.

And I tried to convince myself of that too.
Plentiful years have passed and all have moved on

Yet I stay stuck in these empty halls

Wondering why your bite took so long to become infected

Wondering what remedy could treat this ancient ailment.
Marie
Written by
Marie  24
(24)   
219
   Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems