A boy was born with a heart made of wood
Hopes for love ablaze seemed almost too good
Her lips danced over him, two searing wicks
His soul she toyed with, mere pick up sticks
Kindling burns brightest, for the shortest of time
Poetic love devours without or with rhyme
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
A boy was born with a heart made of wood
Hopes for love ablaze seemed almost too good
Her lips danced over him, two searing wicks
His soul she toyed with, mere pick up sticks
Kindling burns brightest, for the shortest of time
Poetic love devours without or with rhyme