Fool
One word after another type paralysed;
With his words my heart he prized.
Broken with dazed disbelief,
From this bandit, standard thief.
How can one begin to foster-
A condescending crock, imposter?
In the beginning he was never cruel,
Now the end I'm such a dunce.
Copyright © Paris-Maree Boreham | Year Posted 2020
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