Deceitful butterflies

[Thirst]

Something I wrote while I was bored in class,


Devotion still beats under the dark starry sky of New York,
His melancholic voice seizes her heart; cries of help escaping her chest
Does it matter if she’s out of breath? She was only ever second best
Her neck has never held diamonds, but she’s always sparkled
The flawless frame she carries
Her sweet innocent aroma invites him in
Does it matter if she’s tired of these games? She’ll never win.

[selkies]

Something I wrote while I was bored in class,


Devotion still beats under the dark starry sky of New York,
His melancholic voice seizes her heart; cries of help escaping her chest
Does it matter if she’s out of breath? She was only ever second best
Her neck has never held diamonds, but she’s always sparkled
The flawless frame she carries
Her sweet innocent aroma invites him in
Does it matter if she’s tired of these games? She’ll never win.

good

but that poem doesn't say what you want it to say. It only gives an idea of what it might be.

[qimissung]

I like poetry that alludes. This is pretty good for something you tossed off in a moment of boredom. I love how you start off with a premise, and every line thereafter builds to the inevitable conclusion. Ah, love. Ah, loss. Those themes will ever hold us in their grip.