Thursday, February 27, 2014


She sat on the corner of the couch.
A glass of wine in one hand,
A cigarette in the other.
Her attitude wasn’t proper,
And neither were her manners.
Luna was her name,
And she was crazy.
Crazy like the moon.
She was young but she wasn’t.
She was nice but she wasn’t.
She was taken,
But then again she wasn’t.
An unsuspecting victim,
Took a seat beside her.
Luna fell into his arms.
She spilt her wine,
But just on him.
Because she’s crazy,
Crazy like the moon.

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