don’t talk to me about love … … …

Scribbled Verse

whispers of yesteryear,
ravaged promises, savaged oaths,

squirming away,
down gutters of fate,

so don’t tell me of destiny, no patronising me with vows of love,

i stand alone now,
under winter skies,

desolate, in the slicing sting of the rains that fall from above … … …

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