The Waffle Iron

The Waffle Iron She left me her father came to take her home the train left nine at night; they sat in the café I was outside the pain of the split up was overwhelmingly painful but I had to cry silently. Quarter to nine they took up their seats she laughed like she had no care in the world. Next day I was collecting and selling empty booze bottle to sell at a scrap dealer I was broke and needed the money She wrote asked if I would send the dog she missed it and not to forget the waffle iron. I sent the dog I loved it too, but I would do anything for her the hope was she would come back. I forgot the bloody waffle iron she wrote to ask for it Didn`t bother to answer, but she was persistent, so I sent her the bloody iron