by Unknown
Mar 2011 409 Views 6 comments
Poetry Man
A real man is not a boy
who plays with hearts as if a toy.
He should not rhyme sweet words to woo
your open heart... they're all untrue.
Nor does he know his heart's desire
despite his words, alive with fire...
Beware the so-called gentle man,
he lies like no known scoundrel can.
I say these words to warn the lass
who thinks she found her love, at last...
I fell for him, don't do the same
One only wants to spare you pain.
Heed my words, not born from pride:
No love resides in Humberside.
who plays with hearts as if a toy.
He should not rhyme sweet words to woo
your open heart... they're all untrue.
Nor does he know his heart's desire
despite his words, alive with fire...
Beware the so-called gentle man,
he lies like no known scoundrel can.
I say these words to warn the lass
who thinks she found her love, at last...
I fell for him, don't do the same
One only wants to spare you pain.
Heed my words, not born from pride:
No love resides in Humberside.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2011
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Comments (6)
My pot of gold is in my heart.
I'm sure, you also have one there.
Let not the words do us apart.
Besides, if one wants to make the news.
Broadcast on youtube.
I want to read more of your poetry here. That's for sure.