The truth is dry leaves
beneath her feet.
Love is bubble wrap
that she can't resist the urge to pop.
Her life is a sand castle
and she's just waiting for the tide.
Do not love her.
Do not devote to her.
Do not even care.
And when you do,
don't say I didn't warn you.
© 2007 Veingo
Printed from www.Poetly.com/members/226/1338 on Friday July 25th, 2008 07:59 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2006 Matthew Steven (matts.org)