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A Hackneyed Love
A hackneyed love,
now I know,
my heart's a treasure,
I say no more.
your eyes on the chequebook
like ice on a cake,
none you give but loads you take,
Dear you made it look grotesque.
act like a fool I did,
to please your evil deeds,
or more like sweating and bleeding,
a prisoner to your biddings.
you could have said at least
that inside you were a beast,
an argument without closed fists
is not a thing on your list.
using torture as a weapon,
to use my heart as a coupon,
because you knew all the loopholes,
to steal my love was your call.
although true love never dies,
this one was killed by your lies,
it's wise to say enough,
a hackneyed love.
Copyright ©
Jones Muta
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