Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

That was strike two but you’re the only one keeping score
I didn't realize there were heart strings attached
You know I have trouble listening 
Yet you're still undressing
But your clothes are draped on you and not the floor, 
So that’s strike three 
I know you like to work with your hands but I didn't realize you were blue collar
Snorting vitamin D is your idea of a natural dependency   
And you’re not Icarus 
But I'm surprised homemade wings couldn't get you any higher 
Even a jack of all trades could be dealt a losing hand 
A welder fabricates
But so does a liar 
You're like a sprouting lemon tree 
That's protruding into my backyard
And being shady 
You’ve sentenced me to a life behind your stitched cloth bars 
What an unlawful thing to crave 
And you may be prosperous and the right amount of sour 
But I'm sure as hell not making lemonade 

And not to be dramatic
But can I really live without this?

You left my temptation so abused, 
I might be a liability to your prowess

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