The Thief
Only sixteen years old I found myself a thief.
He stole my heart but his presence was brief.
He seemed like the quiet before a storm.
The type of love wasn’t hot, but lukewarm.
With dark brown hair and dark brown eyes he grinned.
Hurt a few times so he became thick skinned.
Our time together is now a mirage,
let me leave the room before the applause.
He kissed me goodbye left with his things packed
Never did I get that stolen heart back
About the Creator
Amelia Buffington
Friend, daughter, artist, concert enthusiast, Jesus lover, coffee obsessed college student
IG @miagold23
Twitter @miagold23
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