your greedy hands are no greedier than mine,
as your fingers travel past my waistline,
thinking that i’m about to waste my time
on a man like you,
“too good to be true,”
kinda borrowed, about to be blue.
my greedy hands will clench,
as i lean closer on that bench,
ignoring your disgusting cigarette stench.
“i’ll break your ******* jawline
if your hands don’t leave my waistline,”
and you didn’t waste time

running away.

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, when love is like a dream---we live not exist:>


love

when a skirting golden light sinks the morning room
when a chocolate's mist takes away the gloom
when a song blasts the ear you make a scream
when a coffee's first sip lightens the mind with steam
when a sea races the waves alone dived
when a rainbow kisses a mere the rain skied

when a heart makes a dance
when a landscape stills the stance
when a painted hand dirties the whites
when a moon never fails to shine in sight
when a run feels like the embrace of the winds mint
when a line flows a ray of a poem in every tint
and we live not exist


                                                                             ------ravenfeels

A wasted effort can be seen to be like a trial run
and the objective would be to learn and have fun.
______