We call it cross-bolts
When you turn against us.
We aim and fire
Spiteful spits of hatred and malice.
Turn a blind eye to cause and effect.
We receive bullets of cravings and madness,
Hoping to achieve greatness in hunger.
You are starved,
Deceived into believing
I hold the keys to your heart.
That is okay.
You should know,
The keys actually open your mind.
2 comments:
Nice poem..
I like it..
'i hold the keys'
I muse on that.
I am sure glad you like it. :). Musing! :)
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