Counterfeit Treasure Poem by Lyf Burns

Counterfeit Treasure



A silent,
Somber
Goodbye.

You held onto me
Until
The Last
Second.

But you still
Let
Go.

I loved you,
You hate me.
Hate is
Your dowry.

This gift you gave me.
See this blade?
It's deadly!

Friday, April 20, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: hate
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Lyf Burns

Lyf Burns

Belarus, Maine
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