My Brunette

I’m lovesick, I love sick glance. Life is not a bed of roses, I’m dense. Heart is covered in bruises, I’m dense. My beloved left me for another guy. She was a brute brunette that poisoned my brunch. My body was laid in the hopeless snow, My heart was pained by a reckless snob who gazed at my smock with scorn. Then I was not myself, I was just another guy. We seem to dislike one another yet we seem to love one another. I was confused by the book of love mentally and spiritually. I was abused by a woman emotionally and physically. Now I’m transparent, I’ve seen through rose-coloured spectacles. I’m not of posh family, no posh clothes. My indignation is not just a pose; it’s a real pain from my Jaws!