It's Over
It's Over
she froze
her rose
his rope
his hope
his mire
desires
for he
a flea
on leaves
he sleaze
on whims
for him
rides mule
cruel
all jive
he thrives
no love
just shove
His run
his fun
she says
today
no more
implore
no more
front door
she walks
his talk
and flicks
his wick
3/19/17
Note-I just withdrew this poem from contest. What precipitated
this move is that a member wrote in her comments the poem wasn't
cookie worthy. Construed or misconstrued, I didn't take kindly
to her comment. She got her wish. It's over. According to her I
need help. So be it. Tell her she won. Save to archives.
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