Ghostwhite SilverMature

Ghostwhite Silver

 

It's not her fault,

When it comes live or dead.

I look minimal,

Invisible.

Be the attention I love you for,

Don't bother dancing tango.

Every twenty seconds,

You don't care.

I'm tired,

Sadistic and psychotic.

You can,

But you don't count.

 

 

 

The End

8 comments about this poem Feed