DelicateA Poem by Lucas GrashaIn light you will ebb, in dark you will flow, the
death of trust will cause you to grow. Not
in anger, and not in pain, even
when there is no Angel to stop the rain. She
was my Angel, or so that I thought, her
smile, such trust it had brought. And
that trust, how delicate it was, between
her and I, I thought there to be love. But
one million shards, scattered from trust, broke
before the moment that I’d had enough. I
tried to take lightly the one lie that she said, but
the trust won’t mold together again. So,
I am left here, she is gone from me, but
she is not worthy any blood I could bleed. And
I find, so fast, she fades away, and
I find she is not worth a single ounce of my hate. © 2011 Lucas GrashaReviews
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10 Reviews Added on March 30, 2011 Last Updated on March 30, 2011 AuthorLucas GrashaPittsburgh, PAAboutI've chosen in life to use the pen in place of the sword; or rather, the giving in place of giving up. I believe that I do possess a talent, but that opinion is only mine; if you would please (if you .. more..Writing
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