You ask me what is up,
Why can’t you be my friend?
I had a little sup
Of love which could be grand.
You wanted just to play
With my ingenious heart.
You knew you wouldn’t stay,
You knew we were to part.
You say you don’t dissemble
But it’s an utter lie.
For you it’s just a gamble
And I can only fry.
That person who deceives
Cannot become a friend
It’s easy to perceive
This simple solemn trend.
Please, never play these tricks
With any other girl,
‘Cause this despair pricks
And than becomes a whirl.
One loser is enough
To please your silly proud.
Now let’s forget this guff
To give ourselves no round.
November 1-2, 2004
Refrection on
© Copyright: Марь-Санна, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106042301189
Свидетельство о публикации №106042301189
Рецензии