Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2022
You pull the wool over his dull eyes
every single time that we speak
and while you won’t give me back your heart
you won’t give it to him to keep

So you still refesh me by the hour
and call me up late at night
and though you’re doing me no wrong
You aren’t doing him no right
Thomas Alan
Written by
Thomas Alan  M/Newcastle, UK
(M/Newcastle, UK)   
105
   sofolo
Please log in to view and add comments on poems