Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash
Something a little classical
Maybe mirror, mirror on the wall
Or yes, Roses are red, violets are?
I don’t know, but whatever it was
I listened, listened with a flitting blush.
I forgave him
I forgave him the multiple times, he gazed on my face, With his eyes and modest grace
He stared into my soul in a pace
Oh the scorn that crazed my brain.
Yes with his deep voice
And masculine embrace
He calmed my fears with tears of fakes And that was the starting of
The manipulation again.
I know it’s a circle, but what am I to do
When I told the cruel scorn of what I go through He yelled, with unforgivable disgrace,
Lo and behold I’ve been misled again Questioned his love, what it then just lust?
vintagesurreal poetryslam poetrysad poetryperformance poetrylove poemsinspirationalheartbreakfact or fiction
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Comments (1)
Narcissists are the worst! Always so good at manipulating and gaslighting! Your poem was so relatable!