In The End A Fool Never Wins

Your moisten mist upon my lips
greedily I taste, the fool who waste.
If bleached bones stand along in hot burning sand
then your taste confounds those binds that bound.

Dripping blood from wounded hearts
fear of the fool found left in the dark.
Heed my words before you cast me a side
the stab of pride still I denied, I died inside


Published by Sandymancan

I'm a father, friend, and a family man, I believe in right and wrong, I understand the value of standing on your own. I have an iron will with a poet's heart, a belief in God is where it starts.

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