*

*
Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Wanna Play?

Toril "Wanna Play"
You beckon
I come
Yes, I know better
and still, I come
You are a thief
a deceiver
You will always hurt me
and still, I come
When you look at me
with those pleading eyes
and that beguiling smile
I can't resist
Time and time again
I come
Trusting your words
more than my own knowledge
Such foolishness!
Still, I come
By the time I see
the glint in your eyes
it is too late
Your alabaster teeth flash and
encircle my neck
like a string of pearls.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Artistic Interpretations with Margaret, Art With Toril