Pretty bras don't make you prettier on the outside,
They can't fix that face,
They can't hide that scowl.
Pretty boys won't make you feel better,
Their going to use your till their nothing left,
They won't look back and see their fingerprint.
Plastic people make plastic promises,
That melt in the sun, crack in the cold,
and never amount to the value their sold.
This is a shitty poem for you,
I didn't guarantee it to be new.
But when you fuck me and leave me,
Well, lets just say I hope you take it easy.
Love, Nothing.
No comments:
Post a Comment