Scribbled Stories

The following poem is a recent one.
It wasn’t something I sat down to write. It was just something I ended up scribbling on a half torn piece of paper.
It’s probably a bit juvenile, but a friend led me to believe that it’s presentable.
So I guess I’ll know who to blame.

His blue eyes,
met her hazel ones.
Sparks flew.
But it couldn’t last,
they both knew.
For his heart,
was built from lies.
And her’s was assembled,
from half truths
They were two stories,
that just could not be told together.
But they had a mutual enemy.
So for just one night,
on temporary love,
they fell asleep,
on a bed of lies,
under champagne colored stars,
and a wine colored sky.

I had absolutely no ideas when I came around to giving this post a title.
This is was the only thing I could come up with.
I would like to thank you for reading till the end.

Until We Meet Again.


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