Your heart is a lemon-
bitter
I've lived and died
there a thousand times
Choking on the seeds
gasping for air-
Once I was a happy
young tart
I felt at home
inside the lemon love
You knew just how
to squeeze me-
our quenching
lemonade
satisfied us then
With time the
taste became
bitter
When time came
to slice it open
for your
bittersweet tea
I was homeless
That lemon left it's
imprint on your
heart and soul
It stained me
No choice but
to rot along
with you.
What an acrid little poem. Tart and slither! I invite you to read, Deviant Tart, Red. Sweet and succulent! You will absolutely hate it! However, I love this rotten lemon poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Incredibe- beautiful use of metaphors for this tasty poem but sour piece of lemon love fruit. Ah, for us women, I sometimes wonder why God even made men; -(Ort at least why hHe made some of them the way He did ;)