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She’s Art..

July 11, 2015


Reflecting upon the azure sky,
Trying to savor the little freedom left
But was it too late?
Was she already already exposed?

She was chained to her lust,
It was like morphine to her,
A slave to her passions,
She grew knowing she was art,
A valuable exhibit.

A willing captive,
Engulfed by the string symphony,
“Let’s play” she echoed. “I’m your possession”she said.
“Trail my path”
Over the bridge they halted,
Envisioning the tide.


From → dark poetry

  1. She’s art. nicely penned.


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