GameA Poem by Danielle Renee
When the morning came
he wrote my name inside of a little heart on the frosted window above my bed. He said he would always love me, that he would rather burn than hurt me, but I always knew the truth. He was good at that game, one of the best I ever knew. But he didn’t think I understood what he was doing. I played my cards too. © 2012 Danielle Renee |
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Added on March 30, 2012 Last Updated on March 30, 2012 AuthorDanielle ReneeHouston, TXAboutI’m a troubled, Texan writer whose soul resides some place beyond New York’s state lines. I believe in tragedies, but never consider fate. I’m not a fan of romance or relationships. .. more..Writing
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