His lips are clean
Of coffee breath
And cigarettes
His hands are clean
From holding hands
And one night stands.
His shoes are clean
Of ***** stains
From liquor chains.
Yet his tongue,
Indulged in lies
Promises turned into goodbyes.
His mind is a clutter
His lips have uttered
Names of girls who do not matter.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
His lips are clean
Of coffee breath
And cigarettes
His hands are clean
From holding hands
And one night stands.
His shoes are clean
Of ***** stains
From liquor chains.
Yet his tongue,
Indulged in lies
Promises turned into goodbyes.
His mind is a clutter
His lips have uttered
Names of girls who do not matter.
AB //STAIN// ED. Get it? No matter how clean the boy in the poem may appear to be, he still has something that stains him. I don't know. It's 12;30AM, I need sleep.
