And count me one-hundred
Among those whom you have chosen
To bestow your beautiful smile of deceit.
You who look upon me with eyes that promise
What your heart does not hold,
And with false tongue
Ask for my youth
Expecting me to give
That which I hold most precious.
But I will not be treated as one of your sheep
To let you feast upon my innocence
And return me to the fold
Copyright © Pamela Russell | Year Posted 2005
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