The poison penned letters of hate
Tossed belongings left in rain, cut up into strips
Gone before I awaken, out till way too late
An army of friends who glare at me impossibly
Twisted by my foolish idea of a soul-mate
Hours at work are just wasted, social life has become a joke
How has this broad shouldered male, been left in such a state?
So, now I look in the mirror, finally able to glare at the fool
That wonders of the woman he loved, and wonders if it ever was you.
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
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