It's so confusing, you see
The way we're makin' sense
To everyone but me
White picket fences
And expensive dishes
Keep me under lock and key
Walk in closets
And sleek chrome faucets
Will never be enough for me
So, I'll be in the garden tub
Candles lit, remembering love
And the way it used to be
SP
1 comment:
A sad poem lies within these lines of denial and reality. Good work.
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