Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Mata Hari

You’ve got some new ***** you think is better,

She’s a second rate version of me, doll.

She’s not your freedom, she’s your fetter

I’m the first edition, if you recall.

 

She’s Crystal Lite and I’m a rich liquor.

She’s Mother Theresa, I’m Mata Hari

I’m a solar flare and she’s a flicker,

She’s a walk in the woods, I’m a safari.

 

I’m fifty one flavors, she’s vanilla.

But that flavor is bound to sour.

If you’re not careful she’ll turn to Scylla,

her loving gaze turned to a glower.

 

She’s safe but I know you stud,

you can’t handle a moment of dull.

I’m in your thoughts, I’m in your blood

and you can’t get my words out of your skull.

 

She thinks she’s got your heart and that’s fine.

She can call you hers, but you’ll always be mine.

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
lauren-pope
American
Published
May 12, 2014
Lines·Words
18·141
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell lauren-pope how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write