Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
That son of a ***** pile of bricks will be the end of me, Its killing me and my love, I'd fight it, but i dont know which weapons i need, Its not me he's thinking of, A hammer would only cause some of the passage, Openness and conversation do the rest, But he clogs up at the mention of, tell me "baby", I dont know what to do for the best, Do i walk away and leave him to it? Or do i fight and wait for the bricks to subside? What if he wants me to walk away, but cant bring himself to say goodbye? (c) eileen mcgreevy 28/12/09
0
Dec 28, 2009
Dec 28, 2009 at 12:55 AM UTC
Wall
That son of a ***** pile of bricks will be the end of me, Its killing me and my love, I'd fight it, but i dont know which weapons i need, Its not me he's thinking of, A hammer would only cause some of the passage, Openness and conversation do the rest, But he clogs up at the mention of, tell me "baby", I dont know what to do for the best, Do i walk away and leave him to it? Or do i fight and wait for the bricks to subside? What if he wants me to walk away, but cant bring himself to say goodbye? (c) eileen mcgreevy 28/12/09
eileen-mcgreevy
Written by
Dec 28, 2009
Dec 28, 2009 at 12:55 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem