Cacoethes Scribendi

She's not as cold as she seems;
the horse's mouth never opened,
that's why she lets it be.
It wasn't in her wishes,
that her absence was felt.
Though the slender hand got the brunt
to vent the frustrations of the past,
knowing doth she that it takes 2 to clap,
thus the grudge was never nursed for long.
If there was anything to blame,
the thicker hand was to partake in it too.
She is but a mortal of the mundane world,
when weariness can also weigh her down;
Delving into the nook of quills qnd ink,
baring her soul so the pain will cease..

spunkz