Foolish Mortals Can Be // Minahil Naghman

He knocked on her door;

Bouquet of flowers in his hands,

A promise of a better tomorrow

A façade of endless lies.

She looked out the window

Saw him standing there

With a melancholic look on his face

Making promises for a better beginning.

He cried her name,

Called out to her love,

Said he was filled with it

The emotion of treachery.

She heard his pleas

His begging to see her

Just to listen one time

As he poured his heart out in front of her.

But what did he know;

Of how it felt to put your heart out

Let it be taken by someone brutal

And see it broken into pieces unknown.

What did he know

That when she looked at those flowers

She saw the ones he gave the other one

The roses of everlasting disloyalty.

He probably didn’t know

That when she heard his melodious voice

She only heard his whispers

Soothing the other girl to sleep.

He didn’t know how much she knew,

How painfully her heart burst,

How it’s ached to find his voice

His tranquilizing touch and charming lies.

So find another one to play with,

To mesmerize with your white lies,

To find another to twist into

The immortal pain she now held in her hands.

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