Written by Shayla D. Smith
Iris pierce
Soft yet ,complex
Turns each number
Quick
It's my complex.
So ,Why am I So fallen,
Or Why am I putting on a show?
Each number is with you,
For you, Babe.
So, Please
Don't you think that
If there where others,
My friend, it would show?
I hold such an afterglow
For even a little and each time it grows.
But I tell you now that,
I will never be another's master
Unless his love will love and never let go.
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