all that glitters is not gold
whilst the idea of me is alluring
the reality of me is frightening
lucky for me
my pen is prettier than my face
W.E.
don’t get carried away,
with the way my words settle into your soul,
carve a nest into your heart,
and send a quiver through your lungs.
gasp, gasp,
there it is,
that skip of a beat,
as if I were talking to you,
fret not,
nor flatter yourself,
I am long gone,
in love with a being that doesn’t exist,
so your intrepid arrow,
will always miss.
W.E.
lonerloaner 