devon da poet (April 27,1992 / Sauteurs, Grenada)
Your eyes are deceiving darling
But I’m too experienced to be believing.
The bright expression on your face is appealing
But I have a second feeling about you.
Were the words you whispered true?
The signs you conveyed, were they genuine too?
Why are you so subtle? I’m not Aristotle, dear.
You’re like drawing the same card after every shuffle,
But I don’t gamble. I detest chances.
I’m a certain person. I like assurance in my romances.
When I’m in two minds I back away.
I do not condone doubts and ambiguities.
That will deter my personality.
I’m clever enough to be aware of your cunningness.
Your guiles are effortless.
I’ve already figured you out!
You’re that one dark cloud, in the midst of cumulus clouds.
You’re like a black t-shirt amongst a row of whites, on a clothes line.
Even the blind can see your wiles.
Don’t try to conceal your lies. I’ve already read your lines.
Comments about this poem (Skeptics by devon da poet )
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