Pompeii

Such a beautiful girl.
Such sadness in the eyes.
Will attract, all your life.
God protect you.
The wrong kind of men.
Some who prey on the broken.
Some who seek those to mend.
Few will stay.
But you’ll always have friends.
Your kind.
My kind.
Our kind.
Always do
Some who sense.
The smell of small death around you.
Will warm the mortal.
If only.
For a minute or two.
Fatalistic.
Forensic.
Perhaps.
I’m sick.
But it’s true.
You are beautiful.
In spite.
And because.
Of that sadness in your eyes.