I tell you now, my pride eclipsed,
That wench did tear my heart to bits.
She cares not of today, or of tomorrow,
That wench just revels in my sorrow.
That bitter morsel off life’s plate,
Swells my throat’s lump; anticipate.
The wench scolds me yet once again,
Why does she not see, she keeps paling me in?
The mind’s eye of the wench, has made her grand,
In her own pretense, she won’t understand.
Be sure now that never again,
With that wench I’ll ever pretend.
For what is given, the wench wants more,
No soul gratifies that glutton's gore.
The greed and the want, I soon come to see,
The wench wants more, than both you and me.
Chewing on the back of my soul,
Surviving the wench, takes more than you know.
All that is given, the wench does not see,
That wench thinks there’s more, if she nags without plea.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 5:19pm on Nov 13, 2024 via server WEBX1.