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The Pain of Lust

Poetry By: Joseph Eastwood
Poetry


Well, with the initial intent of handing it to somebody, and that turning into a text, and that texting turning into a person who now doesnt speak to me :D ahh well they cant handle the truth, it hurts, both people :/


Submitted:Apr 18, 2010    Reads: 52    Comments: 4    Likes: 1   


Clouds of wings, all flutter inside,
But they’re invisible, until they’ve died.
 
They made my heart pace, extra fast,
The feeling I’d longed, forever to last.
 
You killed them all, with your deathly touch,
Your words, your style, well there nothing much.
 
I came to realise, you’re an attention seeking whore,
You’ve got nothing much going; you’re such a fucking bore.




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