Concrete
You tell me your leaving
Impersonal over the phone
Couldn't you at least write me a Poem
Spelling out why
Or was I just small fry
You overcooked
Because you weren't paying attention
Romping up the temperature
Drained on old newspaper
Yesterday's news in small print
You never really cared about
Hanging on your arm whilst you looked out
For something better to come along
And sweep you off your feet
Copyright © Christopher Flaherty | Year Posted 2019
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