With this accessory,
This nectared tongue
I shall weave words
Into a fine shape
Befitting you
Alas! My emotions
Proved so inept
So weak and wavering
Wooing you, my sole mission
Or breathe my last trying.
And when time chimes
My final bell
This mound of clay- my body
Fed to the waiting womb of the earth
Restful, shall it be.
In my coquetting hobby
Never met a tough one
A yawning difference
I see here.
Effortlessly, have I fared
But you, you are the gem
The one that got away
My soul sweats.
Everybody is different
But that is ok.
Chameleon, I crave to be
To blend in a phantom kiss
Of a common interest.
And when my last curtain
Is drawn as I kick a tired bucket
Fulfilled, I shall be,
The show went well.
@harrywillThanks for reading.
