The Magician's Gun

Play or be played.

Played and sent home,

From the light of your phone,

I fall for these same tricks like a child.

Young and inexperienced,

You got my pass for clearance,

My disappointment is anything but mild.

I pretend not to care,

I know you're actually there,

even if you don't remember me.

I'll forget your face demon.

I;m still calling your name,

But you have disappeared.

It isn't as if I care.

Author's Note

Help me improve this. I want it to be powerful.

Reviews

[BrightNeonBrilliancy]

The title is so cleverly woven into the meaning of this poem (well at least in my interpritation of it anyways) that I smiled my way through the poem. Was fab-tabulous :)

[Helpless]

i don't think there is anything to improve on this really. i like it :) its really cool!