POSTED 05/10/2018 16:44
Egyptian chandeliers sparkle from atop head scarfs,
Terracotta gold within
Harmonica blues to soothe an ache
Of the loss of a so-called madam Maluff.
Mourning today is in chorus
Of a lost love amongst other beings.
I had loved you long before I knew
What love was,
We were cut loose to end
In each other’s arms,
But sun and moon have found me,
Land and sea have worn me,
I’ve thought and caught a badgering lie,
Now whipped to truth of mine for yours.
I did and indeed still do want my you-
You gorgeous silly ball of yarn.
What say you upon my case madam?
How I die is your judgement,
It is your place to say.
What says her royal prettyness be my plight?
A high rise dive with a clotted crash?
Or your lips on mine then vice versa?
And though these may rhyme
And these may don’t,
The choice as you will find
Is yours alone and always.
It is you who makes the choice,
You who will wield the scale in one,
Stainless Steel in the other;
It is you who will blind the fold.
So what say you?
Am I to live for you?
Or not live at all?
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