Apr 2
I can't **** this pain,
Not with a knive or pencil,
Not with foul words or soft lips,
Not with caring hands or a fist.
It is the pain of a love
Where once more Cupid missed.
Not with a knive or pencil,
Not with foul words or soft lips,
Not with caring hands or a fist.
It is the pain of a love
Where once more Cupid missed.
Written by
ahintofpoetry
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