I bit into your personality,
but you were the bitter kind.
A Sun by day,
A close Moon by night.
Watching over my shoulder,
like a cat on prowl for a fight.
I did not mind the Stars intrusion into our simple affairs,
but when you make a movie with me,
I do not need their stares.
I have not the time-
nor the most sympathetic of cares.
Truth be told your white not gold.
You reflect your inner roach.
I haven't got a dime of love,
for a lover who needs a loving-coach.
So "****" be the word of the day,
as Count Dracula may say,
Your major brain's deep illness must soon cease,
and then I hope we find sweet peace