I've delivered your messages
Transcribed your letters
Worn heels and tight dresses
For you the past four years
No one knows better
Your favorite tie is argyle
You like your coffee lukewarm
And you prefer the pickle on the side
It began with passion-filled glances
But soon we were taking all our chances
To share stolen kisses
In the privacy of a custodial closet
Then came the late work nights
Telling my mother we had production to boost
When the only thing you were boosting
Was me onto your paper-littered desk
And I felt *****
Even though you said you'd do nothing to hurt me
I knew it was lies because you did nothing to help me either
And I loved you
I could care less for the moon
All I want is you to no longer make me suffer
Make me a wife or a mother
Something, anything other than just your secretary/lover
All because God made my skin the wrong color.