Treasure Island

Graveyard Of Little Muses

(7 march 1988)

Heartless


Night revolves above us
and you
have nothing else to say
and I
have nothing else to write,
nothing real at least,
and
It's your fault that
I haven't
managed to keep my promises.
My poems
like my lips
are not on your taste anymore.
Elusive and cruel,
worthless,
you're becoming to resemble
too much
with your god.

Submitted: Saturday, March 08, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, March 11, 2014

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Topic(s): love

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