Scraps
Love is a ball of twine
wrapped tightly around the hearts of lovers,
binding them in a mutual dance of passion.
The gods endowed me with extra rounds of rope and
I followed with sweet smiles and giddiness,
until they cursed me with red ties around my wrists.
Trapped by my own love
and cursed by own gods.
Inconsistency was your greatest gift
and it left me begging at your feet,
desperate for those sweet moments.
Tell me that you
loved me,
missed me,
craved me.
I only wished to be your shining star.
With mercy Aphrodite freed me
and looked on with pity.
I still lay at your feet,
waiting to catch the scraps of your affection,
drooling like a hopeless dog.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: