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 Aug 2018 william eiffert
Cné
Who would think a rose so sweet
Would dry and crumble at the feet
And blooms that scent the night and day
Would steal a heart, then fade away

With petals soft and fondly red
Sweet essence fills an addled head
Then turns to dust before the eyes
Leaving naught, but sad surprise

Who would think such thorny vine
Could lift a blossom as divine
And by the stem on which it stands
Could so wrong an offered hand

Such strength and beauty is rarely true
A blessing owned by very few
As 'neath the soil, in winters keep
There sleeps a rose to tear a cheek

Who would think that perfect bloom
Could be a bane, a curse of doom
So fine a sight, yet in disguise
A rose to ***** and blind the eyes
 Aug 2018 william eiffert
Nyx
I'm romanticizing things
That would otherwise mean nothing
I'm creating something marvelous
That sends my heart buzzing

I know the truth

A Simple glance, a Stare
Its sends me off running
A grin, a small smile
My heart just started gunning

Its means nothing

A saying, a phase
He said it a particular way
Holding hands, hugging
Its these things that make my day

But I know it means nothing

He's considerate, sweet
He loves me very dear
He treats me like nobody else
Though its always been crystal clear

Nothing at all

Maybe it was my perception
The image I painted within my mind
Maybe it was his deception
The lies he told that kept me behind

Its in the past

I was in love, I know
I couldn't help it at all
But now that he's gone
I realized I'm just another doll

The cruel reality
That I had to face
Was that I meant nothing at all to him
That to him, I'm easily replaced

It meant nothing at all to him.







I know this...
Even so
I still love him

W h y

#
 Aug 2018 william eiffert
Sarah
There are glimpses of
gold when
your shades are
rose-tinted
and when
the sting
of the past
is a feeling that's
       fading

and the thought of
next winter's
from mildew to
Emerald
and December's
devil
is
no longer
haunting

When there are curtains
of gold to be
draped all around
and suddenly sadness
is a song, not a
sound

and somewhere hums a
hope that
there's more we
can't see

there's a casket of
petals where
grief used to be

— The End —