Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2015
Whine?
I mean men
do it all time, they
do it every day
don't they?

She regurgitates me
like a half eaten meal,
I feel
despondent,
unnaturally silent, I
want to make a statement, but
she has all the words.

Whine?
men do it all the time,
wriggling on the line is fine
for some,
but not for me.

She
wants it all her own way
there's nothing I can do,
nothing I can say, but whine
every single day
men do that
don't they?
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
317
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems