It's Over

It's Over she froze her rose his rope his hope his mire desires for he a flea on leaves he sleaze on whims for him rides mule cruel all jive he thrives no love just shove His run his fun she says today no more implore no more front door she walks his talk and flicks his wick 3/19/17 Note-I just withdrew this poem from contest. What precipitated this move is that a member wrote in her comments the poem wasn't cookie worthy. Construed or misconstrued, I didn't take kindly to her comment. She got her wish. It's over. According to her I need help. So be it. Tell her she won. Save to archives.