Deceived   I am drawn again to the park. To the marble statue of a maiden, the image of you. Her pumping heart whispers gently and, like magic a river of prismatic bubbles issues forth from her petrified lips - just like the last lies you whispered into my eager ears the day love died. By CATSEYES © 2008 CATSEYES (All rights reserved)

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Betrayal (challenge has been closed)

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