As cupid strikes that poisonous sharp arrow
your chances of internal lonliness grow narrow
as he shoots his one last hope
he wounders if you can cope
then he sees the lines across your wrist
he wounders, will this love realy exist?
he puts down the bow
looks deep into your eyes
and he knows just your beautiful face will attract all the guys.
By Gavin Marshall
6/2/2007
Gavin Marshall
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cupids-chokehold/
