They sold her with their eyes.
Told her their polythene lies.
Shot her with a pure white song.
But the emerald tears lasted not so long.
She was burning down her pride.
With all the laughter that she had cried.
Her mirror imaged palace
was proof read by her sandals.
Would she juggle her ace of spades?
Would she stumble through memory lane?
Could she throw away her leaves
of her all time favourite tree?
Would she crumble her pretty face
to a flawless image of grace?
Would she tamper with the seams
of her blissful, ignorant dreams?
And now she's cradling the sand.
She's her own sentimental trap.
There's her spark of caramel light.
There's everything that wasn't right.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Wow.
How have I not seen this before?
I like this a LOT.
The imagery is fucking brilliant!
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thanks!
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