You waste your energy saying my name
In the presence of anyone
Let alone ilk like you.
Waste a perfectly good and clear thought
When you think of me
Because other than right this second
I haven’t thought of you once.
Wasting your crocodile tears
Trying to get yourself laid
In a country
Where obviously they don’t have much standards
Because you’ve had ass before
More than once
Which leaves us
Shaking our heads
Wondering who was that drunk?
You waste your time and energy trying to explain
What I spent seconds ignoring
And wishing away.
Wasting precious moments
In a precarious life
Is so childlike
Because us adults know
Tomorrow is not promised
But you children don’t think of that.
The only thing I realized
By knowing you
Is I like men
Real, genuine, caring, loving men
And you
Your just a fickle little bitch.
Wow and ouch. !)
I know. I really like these kinds of poems.
Me to
Not sure what you were going for but I smirked at the end. I’ve known, and still know, fickle little bitches like that.
Haven’t we all?