A five minute meeting, not a word shared
You lost our duel, and I never cared
Sent me a message, berating my art
And my origins, clawed at my heart
Still I feel flattered, you searched me out
Despite your goal, to moan and pout
This entry was posted by Zardilann on January 8, 2017 at 08:00, and is filed under Poems, Writing.Both comments and pings are currently closed.
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