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Wednesday, 22 June 2016

Poem: Of Simulation and Suspicions

My simulation of her, 
Incurred her deep wrath, 
That even years thereafter, 
Her flinty gaze's without warmth; 

I hadn't the heart to tell her, 
I had enough dirt on her to hurt, 
But mercy was shown to her; 
She would never ever suspect, 

That he who sold her stories, 
Is the man who shares her mattress. 

Copyright © 2016 thearcticstar

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