Jawbreaker

He'll never honor your name, Lorraine.
He doesn't come up behind you to coo
It, when you're on your glider, as doves
Would do it above you, as his love
Is cooler. Oh, I know he's fine, with a
Wallet much fatter, a face, if it matters,
More chiseled, than mine, and you'd
Gather status, gratis, by striding beside
Him. You won't, staying here, biding time,
But admit it, Lorraine, he is lame.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 30 times
Written on 2013-05-09 at 22:54

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