Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2012
It's your fault, it's her fault, it's they're fault.

You introduced me to her,
Supported our chemistry
The whole way through.
She broke me in two,
And what else would you do
But keep quiet?
It's your fault.

He treated her as an object,
Like she was dirt.
She once opened her eyes to see,
And started to flirt.
He began threatening
She then wanted nothing from me.
It's her fault.

I thought it wouldn't be so bad;
The lies, the medicine, the mad.
They dragged me down that hole;
The hounds picking my soul.
I made it my goal for revenge,
Rather than leaving before its end.
It's they're fault.

How could they do this?
How dare they do this!
Step into my life,
And torture my bliss
I didn't ask for a dime,
Yet received millions in filth.
(Hysterical laughter) Why is it so funny?

It's not your fault, nor her fault, nor they're fault.
No, It's my fault.
Thomas Crone
Written by
Thomas Crone  Saratoga Springs, NY
(Saratoga Springs, NY)   
969
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems