Lady In Red Poem by skillz thapoet

in the midst of men in black suits,
a lady passed in a red dress,
a red clutch embellished in,
red beads in wavy patterns,
her feet riding on blood red,
highly scandalous prada stilettos,
and her lips elegant and versatile,
on that glossy red galia lipstick,
her short red dress made the heads,
robotically turn in a preset unison,
and their mouths drooled,
and their hearts did race,
and in a black casket lay a man,
that could tell of this femme fatale,
that walks in red and calls on a red cell,
that writes on a red pen,
of love and hearts on arrow heads,
but all for her kiss he lies rotting,
tasted the lips that did spell death,
and as the sun sets and night calls,
another lust filled fool shall bed her,
and at the break of dawn,
there will be one more less,
black suit,
and not many shall ever know,
what swept him away...
but the lady in red....