"flonting" poems
They use their pretty faces everyday
And look with disapproval to the slightest display of self expression
But there is always a seemless crack
Hidden by lyes of the past and false promises of the future
Flonting their pretty face in the presence of a king
Masquerading their rotting corpses by disguising it with an expensive coffin
As for all the pretentious souls, those pretty faces aren't so pretty, behind the closed doors of solitude
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 11:38 PM UTC