She’s not the perfect specimen,
Loathed by women, Hated by men,
Her soul as clouded as the skies,
She hides it all behind bleeding eyes.
I know you feel your heartbeat race,
When you look into her face,
The same sensation goes for me,
I’d gaze at her for eternity.
Would you not fix me with your poison look,
She’s doing it all by the book,
Thinks she’s the perfect queen with her crown,
Some day the curtain will fall down.
The act will become history,
Her perfect life, transparency,
She’s too far gone for you to mend,
She just wants it all to end to end.
Something she has, has to be shared,
She now knows that everyone cared,
Her dark shields held as she drew weak,
They could not help with what she did seek.
And as I watch her hold the knife,
I realise that it’s not her life,
She screams and smashes her perfect crown,
I cry out as I fall down. |
