The Harlot's Lover Poem by Chris Embrick

The Harlot's Lover



Dare you blame me for your grief
When you played the harlot with him
What sentence more to give a thief
Dare you blame me for your grief
Why look so hurt in disbelief
Would I shoot your lover on a whim
Dare you blame me for your grief
When you played the harlot with him.

Monday, August 14, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: betrayal
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Chris Embrick

Chris Embrick

Commerce, Georgia
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