Weak

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You tremble under the weight of my fingertips,

My delicate touch too much for you.

You shiver at the harsh phrase from my lips,

My poison words too sure for you.

You smile amidst your pleading cries,

Clear streaks running down your ruddy cheeks.

You have hope despite the pain in your eyes,

To still believe in me proves you're weak.

Author's Note:

Just a random poem, up to the reader's interpretation.

(Sorry for the spam of poems lately.)

-I. Quill

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