I remember abandoned stilettos,
Left, bereft under my bed.
The ghettos
Are cruel it is said,
But you
Knew nothing of them,
(Though much of men
And their desire
To play with fire).
What drew
We 2
Diverse birds of a feather
Together?
Dare I say
That you where
A professional and I an amateur,
Or was it the other way?
I can not say.
K Morris - Poet 
Kevin, this is one of your pieces that I like the most. It has a lot to it.
Thank you, Gabriela. I greatly appreciate your comment, which means a lot to me. Best – Kevin
My pleasure 🙂
This is a lovely poem, Kevin.
Thank you, Robbie