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Feb 2020
He proffered his gloved hand filled with guarantee
His blue eyes flickered greedily like the swirling of the sea
His hair was dark and soft, as if of silken twine
His crocodile smile beckoned, "your soul it will be mine"

His arms and legs bent to and fro, waving impossibly
I could smell his want burning my nose ever so pungently
His deal, he swore, "Was better than any I'd ever know"
He towered over, leaning forth, his wickedness did grow

A red bowtie, two-button suit, his clothes immaculate
I stared at him, wondering, too much time to contemplate
And in the end, I shook his hand, my resistance was futile
Each of us has fallen for a dark reptilian smile
This poem was my parallel between a deal with the devil and the deal we make with ourselves each time we say we won't do something again.  Each of us has struggled with something in our lives that we wish we could stop.  I hope that one day each of us won't shake hands with the weakest part of ourselves
Michael Stefan
Written by
Michael Stefan  37/M/Minneapolis
(37/M/Minneapolis)   
  185
     --- and Beautifully Broken
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