Flowers

I could still smell the fragrance,
It gave me chill and goosebumps.
Like magic that circulated into my body,
From my blood into my flesh.

Forbidden crime, I was accused.
Convincing myself, I was confused .
Tired as lit as a chaffeur
Brought me sober as I suffer.

I was so attached with all my delusion,
That created pressure and unrealistic conclusion.
I couldn't imagine myself being thrown onto solution,
That merely give satisfaction.

Look into my eyes and you would see
The affection of mine and its mystery
Begging to end such melancholy , cause
I'm still living in lies and cruelty.

This poem is about: 
Me
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