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Cass Leigh Poem
She's aware he's awfully chivalrous for carrying such casual intent
While there's subconscious recognition he's a blend of canny ways
Mixed with filthy desire
Leaving her plenty of room for discontent
His finicky facade that this helpless girl can't help but admire
While to herself she's being a liar
As if she could deny this mans selfish pursuance
Her misinterpretations are inevitable
A genitive surefire
He'll maintain his obvious avoidance for exclusivity
She'll claim to have been perpetually blinded by his witty ways
As she induced her own misfire
Those eyes of his will misconstrue
Betting on the fact she'll negate her own savvy finesse
That self proclaimed ability to see through
Inevitably he'll be praised and built up as a statue
Like his soul
He'll be mended of stone
While in the interim
She'll be gazing pitifully
Into shades of blue
Copyright © Cass Leigh | Year Posted 2012
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Cass Leigh Poem
Three months is date
Six months our hearts pulsate
Ninth month is here
If there isn't hate
Then soon will be a year
We're really to believe it to be fate?
Smothering ourselves in this theory
A concept based solely upon the idealistic "soulmate"
By this, we incorrigibly infatuate
Neglecting what's real
Ignorantly becoming our own hostages
Essentially an internal inmate
Prisoners who fear
Distrust
And self mutilate
We're sitting patiently as we wait
And wait
Just to wait
Playing these games we're burdened to tolerate
Causing confusion
Creating heartache
But in the end I'm betting all that I've got
Betting on the most evident of facts
As I'll always be the first to call...
Checkmate
Copyright © Cass Leigh | Year Posted 2012
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Cass Leigh Poem
Sleaziest of deeds were witlessly conceived
Despite the vows once promised to abide
Lacking penmanship in the art of a game you designed
Drawing blank inferences where the heftiest of prices reside
I'll be kicking the barrell from beneath you
Watching your gasp in all your impetuous pride
Your tarred lungs stifling for air
Nearing the end, barely alive
While hung on a rope
By knots you willfully tied
Cringing at the nostalgical arisements
Mere beggar of the love once denied
Mirage like chance that you'll survive
You created this monster, this Jekyll and Hyde
Copyright © Cass Leigh | Year Posted 2012
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Cass Leigh Poem
Reckless desire midst the lack of composure in words
I'm lost in an infinitely vernacular coloristic state of bliss
Where words are seen only in the primaries
As I see you in you in colors that don't exist
Copyright © Cass Leigh | Year Posted 2012
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