Keep your tempo, honey
coz sarcasm's after you,
on you, I'll put my money
you will feed my entire crew,
of broken hearted and the betrayed,
the not-there-yet and the made,
Poetic justice is hiding behind the closet,
too afraid that it might get killed by the musket,
of lies and empty promises,
I played the dart of life, all misses,
Keep hiding, honney
coz your lies will kill you,
golden as an emmy,
white as an igloo,
you're the hostess of your own award show,
for girls who know,
how to hurt by hitting,
you with words of serious beatings.
You're good at that, honney
for you there ain't no Easter bunny.
This town ain't big enough,
even if we cut it in half,
you might want my share,
but i don't care! ,
coz i already grabbed a taxi to 'happy' street!
near the streets of the 'broken hearted' and 'betrayed,
just left of the 'not there yet' and 'made'.
you already decided without deciding,
and I accepted without accepting,
you don't like me...
I remember feeling like that when I was young My family was slpit up by the war It gets better I promise you First you have to like yourself and show it Then others cotton on and they like you too
hi poets, good wishes to all.i am going to publish a bilingual poetry magazine named 'KABICAFE' (proposed) from Bangladesh.You r encouraged to send three of ur best short poems (not more than 12 lines) with a brief biography.I hope all the young poets would help me to fulfill my dream project by enriching my magazine.welcome to all & thanks a lot.murtala ramat, poet of Bangladesh.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice Poem I liked it...