SerpentineA Poem by Stephanie W.How does it feel to know your an illusion? And every smile you stretch with guile heeds to resolutions. Your serpent tongue spits distortion in a web of dismal fusion. You are nothing behind your cover up, your lace of dust, your fictitious sinking mud. This barricade you build with blood from others stolen and spilled will halt any truthful intrusion. A mirror of vanity, twisted and distorted, shooting shrapnel of seclusion. You are nothing to me now but a fragment of a person. © 2012 Stephanie W.Featured Review
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5 Reviews Added on July 4, 2008 Last Updated on February 22, 2012 Author
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