LIGHTHOUSE

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Sitting in the corner,

Blessed with grace,

She seems naive.

Do you want to meet her,

Get up and greet her.

Moving to the side,

Where she abides,

That's when you see,

As she looks up,

Eyes ablaze,

Every next second,

Filled with dread

Better brace,

She'll leave no trace.

All it takes,

Just one glaze,

You'll be Seeing red,

Left you for dead.