It’s not him
I’ve left,
It’s her,
But when
In pain
She sets
To stir,
And all
Her games
And threats
Return;
The ones
That blame,
And let
Me burn,
And in
Those flames
My sweat
Is heard
Until
She drains
Regretful
Words.
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I really like this. I normally have issues with strict structures in poetry but this is very cool. I'll send around my twitterverse =]
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