Darling, you like to play with fire.
To be drenched in gasoline is what you desire.
Late nights you never seem to tire
Cause darling, you like to play with fire,
And pretend your slipping life weren’t so dire,
So easily tempted by two pairs of speeding tire.
Category: Sad
WALKING WITH GHOSTS, Poetry by Lucy Williams
Kneeling in front of you, like a starving dog
I am confessing my sins
Be prepared to hate me as much as I do.
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