Cure for the itch

MyHappyLove.com > Dark, Horror Poems > Cure for the itch

You say I'm the epitome of elegance
And the personification of flair
But I'm seeking the quintessence
A joy not to be shared.

And so maybe I've been searching
Since the summer of '89.
But now I'm conjuring illusions
Just to fill the time.

And the winter took its toll,
On the faces of the past.
And the woodland path still shelters
The danger that couldn't last.

So the sorrow that lines my skin,
Is so much more deep rooted,
And for my exotic fabrications,
I am worldly reputed.

And the story behind my eyes
Is as insincere as a sales pitch
Craving indefinite answers,
And my cathartics cure for the itch

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Cure for the itch