A cool draught of words,
Harsh enough to curdle milk,
But leaving only a twinge of doubt,
To subtly stir the pot,
A bowl of plans, lies and deception.
Until;
It forged a partition,
To me:
A protection,
Far from any form of altruism.
For her:
A paper tiger,
She saw right through.
My last was of her visage,
Tears,
Burning slowly away,
Leaving only a defunct,
And broken heart.
~
I’m trying another newly found writing challenge! 🙂 The lovely Rose Ketring introduced me to this one, you should go check out her gorgeous writing! It’s from Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie, another awesome writing blog, the prompt: Wordle, the words in bold are my choices of twelve I had to use in my poem or story 🙂
Far out, thisone took a definite sad and rather depressing turn. This seems to happen to me a lot…
Thanks for reading! 🙂
A. E. Bratchford 
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