Like a blast of ice,
That freezes metal
And makes it so cold
That it nips on mere touch
Your eyes gaze upon me.
It’s not that hate fuels them
But it’s the love that pours so generously from them,
Or maybe it’s my guilt
That pricks me from within
Because I know that you love me
And you’ve been wronged.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Poem : Wronged
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