The Poison

Poems

And so, she drank the poison,
Knowing full well its affects.
But it tasted just like honey,
And every sip, the sweeter gets.

And she knew that is was poison,
And she knew that it would burn.
But such was her compulsion,
She would drink at every turn.

The after-taste was bitter,
So she’d drink the poison more.
She’d drink until the last shreds of her,
Lay in tatters on the floor.

She knew that she should stop now,
She should let the poison go.
The cup clasped tight, her red lips poised,
She’d still drink the poison, though.

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