You May Have the Coffee Maker if You Agree to Go Away

Love may be born blind, Charline,
But lovers aren't. At last, they see.
You've tried to stab me with a knife.
You chased me with your mother's
Car. You sold my TV, took the cash,
And spent it one night on your own.
You're back, of course. Where would
You go? But you're not who I thought
I had when I confessed my love to
You. That feeling's fled so far from
Here you couldn't catch it with a
Car, and I, behind this bolted door,
Sit, staring where my TV was,
Attempting to determine how I
Could have been so blind.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 21 times
Written on 2013-06-25 at 23:43

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