I live in the realm of liars
Learning the trade of constructing the perfect fantasy
Part self-absorption part modesty
Little do they know
My glass is not only half empty
It is the desert
I dream up the beauty I cannot attain
Acting like that’s my name you’re calling
Weaving each sentence into a tapestry
One of my own designs
Because these white lies are all I have
And all I know
YOU ARE READING
Love and Fantasy
Poetrypoems written between classes, in notebooks, over lunches, and in the shower. ranging from emotional haikus to fictitious sonnets. are you looking for angst, fun, heartbreak, and an odd tangent about pigeons? read this then my dear fellow #1 in Pers...
