Jilted

Dear Phillip, You took my heart, Threw it out on the floor, And them jumped up and down on it… In track shoes, no less. At least, that’s what it felt like at the time. You are shower scum. No, pond scum – that’s much, much worse. If I think of something worse later, I’ll just scratch that out and add something else. And to think I wanted to bear your children. Oh, wait, No, maybe that was Rodney. Well, nevermind, Anyway…now, where was I? Where IS that bottle of wine when I need it? Oh, there it is. Oh, uh…you made me cry, you know, Not just a little, but those great heaving sobs That make your eyes look like two red fried eggs the next day. Not a pretty sight. Anyway, I hope you’re happy, But not really. Actually I hope you end up with some old gal Who runs around on you and gives you the clap. Yes, that would be good… And that would make having known you finally worthwhile Because I would, after all, get the last laugh. Oh, well, I feel better now. I’ll just have a couple more glasses of wine And I’ll be completely over you, jerkoff! Now, where is that black book? Ring, ring. “Oh Hello, is Rodney there?”