Deed of Deception
I hoped for love,
With me being what I am.
There was none,
Who would find a point in me,
Good enough to be loved.
I, being what I am,
Cursing myself, wiping tears,
-A Deed of Deception.
And I then accepted
I wasn't one,
At least in the known eyes.
My pocket is torn and empty,
The walls of my room are blank,
A fast running clock,
Is all that hangs there.
-09-12-24
Copyright © Anjali Arya | Year Posted 2024
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