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Jul 2016
My girl's name is Susan,
she's sweet yet sassy,
she's fun but classy,
smart, ****, never apart,
for 5 long, strong years.
She's a paralegal,
with a pair of legs,
that go on for days.
Bragging isn't my nature,
but I won't lie either.

Tie the knot, not yet,
though the talk has come up,
but we always push it back,
that's a game we don't play.
We've been happy as hell,
always smiling wide,
through the good and bad,
but lately, I think that
things are getting stale.

Like the air in a musty room,
where the AC's been off
and the doors were shut.
Where no one's come in
for years if not more.

It hits you when you step in,
and that's what I'm feeling
like we've met our due date,
like we're past our expiration,
moldy, rotten, and pungent,
a train past its destination.

I don't know what words I ought to say,
I don't know if she's feeling the same way,
or if it's just me, and that's what kills me.
I don't wish to break her heart,
but I think we need to be us, apart.

And you know it isn't her fault,
she's been greater than great,
helped me find myself along the path,
helped me figure who I am,
and she's loved me fully and truly.

It's probably just me being a *****,
never was I one to be content,
needing something new and flashy,
to replace the old and weary.
I want to say this is different, somehow,
but I'd be lying if I said I really know.

Messing up a good thing would be foolish,
cause I know we still have fun when we're out,
and I still care deep down about her.
Idiots always say 'let's be friends', when this happens,
but I really don't want us to lose what we had.

But lying to myself is prolonging the pain,
when our hands clasp, I just don't feel it.
I can't feel something that's just not there.
The gods above couldn't tell how or why,
but whatever once was is there no more.

So one way if not the other,
I'll have to figure out how I'll do this,
even if it pains her bad, like it might,
honesty is always the best, so they say.
I guess I'll see for myself the truth.

She's a shining star, this I know,
but I know I got to let her go.
So she can be the light of
someone else's night-sky.
Written by
Christopher Ross Howie  North Carolina
(North Carolina)   
292
 
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