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| photo by Dara Scully |
you had your booty calls
you had your coup de grâce (more than once)
you had your days in the sun
you had your fifteen minutes
you picked the dances and you picked the dancers
you shed you fake tears
and the crowd at your feet screamed for more
now you are a parenthesis
in the glorious pages of the past
like a tiny spot in a distant sun
news flash, sunshine
sometimes we fall face-first in the black holes we dig
hate is not like love
it has a cure
it's called oblivion
look at the bright side
next time you meet someone like me
you won't treat him the way
you treated me
neither will I.
I love happy endings
Giorgos Trikeri
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