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"nagged" poems
Saturday afternoon cycling up a 1in 6 hill then along the road toward the farmhouse you dismounted and laid your bike against the fence and waited to get your breath back the farmhouse door opened and Mrs Putt came out and said Jim and Pete are out I’m afraid her daughter Monica appeared by her side they’ve gone out with their older brother Monica said ok you said tell them I called sure I will Mrs Putt said I can go on a bike ride with you if you like Monica said Benedict won’t want to have you to drag along with him Mrs Putt said Monica pulled a face and pouted her lips I don’t mind you said better than riding alone well if you don’t mind Mrs Putt said mind you behave yourself young lady she said and went indoors and closed the door just get my bike Monica said and went back behind the farmhouse you looked around the farmhouse and the surrounding fields and trees and waited after a few moments she was back riding her bike toward you where we going? she asked lets go see the peacocks along Sedge lane you said and so you got on your bike and off you both rode she beside you in her summery dress and sandals with her brown hair tied in bunches you in jeans and open neck white shirt the sun bright and hot above you the birds flying and calling the clouds puffy and white I’ve always wanted to go bike riding with you Monica said but the boys don’t let me but I am now you nodded and smiled wondering Jim and Pete would say if they knew she’d got to go bike riding with you she chatted on about Elvis and the film in town and how she’d like to go but no one would take her and how her brothers teased her and her mother nagged her after a while you came to the peacocks in a wire cage by a large house just off the lane aren’t they beautiful? she said peering through the wire her fingers holding on to the cage standing beside you yes they are you said but of course the **** bird has the beauty the hen is just dull and ordinary odd that she said wonder why? don’t know you said I’m not dull and ordinary am I? she asked looking at you sideways on no you said you have your own beauty do I? yes you do and she blushed and looked away and the peacock called out and moved off opening its colourfulness and Monica did a twirl making the patterns move on her twirling dress.
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
HER OWN KIND OF BEAUTY.
Saturday afternoon cycling up a 1in 6 hill then along the road toward the farmhouse you dismounted and laid your bike against the fence and waited to get your breath back the farmhouse door opened and Mrs Putt came out and said Jim and Pete are out I’m afraid her daughter Monica appeared by her side they’ve gone out with their older brother Monica said ok you said tell them I called sure I will Mrs Putt said I can go on a bike ride with you if you like Monica said Benedict won’t want to have you to drag along with him Mrs Putt said Monica pulled a face and pouted her lips I don’t mind you said better than riding alone well if you don’t mind Mrs Putt said mind you behave yourself young lady she said and went indoors and closed the door just get my bike Monica said and went back behind the farmhouse you looked around the farmhouse and the surrounding fields and trees and waited after a few moments she was back riding her bike toward you where we going? she asked lets go see the peacocks along Sedge lane you said and so you got on your bike and off you both rode she beside you in her summery dress and sandals with her brown hair tied in bunches you in jeans and open neck white shirt the sun bright and hot above you the birds flying and calling the clouds puffy and white I’ve always wanted to go bike riding with you Monica said but the boys don’t let me but I am now you nodded and smiled wondering Jim and Pete would say if they knew she’d got to go bike riding with you she chatted on about Elvis and the film in town and how she’d like to go but no one would take her and how her brothers teased her and her mother nagged her after a while you came to the peacocks in a wire cage by a large house just off the lane aren’t they beautiful? she said peering through the wire her fingers holding on to the cage standing beside you yes they are you said but of course the **** bird has the beauty the hen is just dull and ordinary odd that she said wonder why? don’t know you said I’m not dull and ordinary am I? she asked looking at you sideways on no you said you have your own beauty do I? yes you do and she blushed and looked away and the peacock called out and moved off opening its colourfulness and Monica did a twirl making the patterns move on her twirling dress.
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136
Up very early on this particular morning couldn't sleep not unusual. Trillions of thoughts racing in his brain leaving his lovely wife in bed! knowing to well the problems he'd created met another himself he hated. Nine months Jamie had been having an affair his wife asking why he was late. On numerous days his mistress wanting him easy to say it just happened! How could he let his fling get out of hand he knew it was underhand. Couldn't rest his conscience nagged him no children with his spouse. Practically one less worry for him to resolve now his mistress was pregnant! The usual cliche he still loved his wife aware this situation was rife! This didn't help sort out the mess he was in what was the solution? None of the answers were fundamentally good but could not escape the truth. It would break her heart to if he were to leave who he never wanted to deceive! With a deep breath he prepared for honesty it had been a long time coming. Prided himself in being an upstanding man not noticing how low he'd sunk. Seven thirty approached he heard Emma stir he had to go and tell her! With a burning guilt consuming his whole being he made his way for judgement day! The Foureyed Poet.
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Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 7:59 PM UTC
Mistress
You told me so young that pills make you better, I'm thirty nine and still not better From seizure medicines, to Zoloft, to sleeping pills, and downers my head is unwinding I became an introvert, paranoid. That girl is smiling, want to go home where it is quiet. Sent to a program to cope with interpersonal relationships The only thing is the medicines make me gain weight Sleep is the only thing that I do right Check ups are always fun, are you taking your medicines? The right answer is always yes. How are your moods? I have none Yes I'm taken my pills add this and increase this. At home always nagged for forgetting my pills so I do as I'm told. Have some Lithium it likes to eat the liver, have some Zoloft, Effexor and more. Another day, Did you take your pills? Yes I did in fact I swallowed them all I filled my cup, made a hysteria soup. Did you take your pills?
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:15 AM UTC
Hysteria soup
You told me so young that pills make you better, I'm thirty nine and still not better From seizure medicines, to Zoloft, to sleeping pills, and downers my head is unwinding I became an introvert, paranoid. That girl is smiling, want to go home where it is quiet. Sent to a program to cope with interpersonal relationships The only thing is the medicines make me gain weight Sleep is the only thing that I do right Check ups are always fun, are you taking your medicines? The right answer is always yes. How are your moods? I have none Yes I'm taken my pills add this and increase this. At home always nagged for forgetting my pills so I do as I'm told. Have some Lithium it likes to eat the liver, have some Zoloft, Effexor and more. Another day, Did you take your pills? Yes I did in fact I swallowed them all I filled my cup, made a hysteria soup. Did you take your pills?
0
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:15 AM UTC
Hysteria soup
I drew stick figures things were simple in a pencil world mistakes were erased you could start over but an inchmeal awareness nagged - the sky isn’t gray, it’s a liquid blue but crayons were complicated you couldn’t erase things mistakes were irrevocable. and there were 148 colors in the big box keeping them in rainbow order was work. growing up is hard
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Jun 16, 2023
Jun 16, 2023 at 12:54 AM UTC
pencils and crayons
Now, here's the story of Rip Van Winkle The true story, not the lie They always want to hide the truth I'll just never understand why You see, Rip Van Winkle was married To a woman, who always nagged And that poor dude was bored all the time Cause his internet always lagged So, he climbed up in his recliner And decided to take a little nap When, out of the blue, the Sleeping Spider Went and crawled up in his lap Now, Rip knew about that spider But still, he just couldn't resist For if he let that spider bite him They'd be no "honey do" list Well, that spider sunk his fangs in Then jumped back on the floor It wasn't long, Rip closed his eyes And man, that guy could snore Now, a wicked smile even crossed his face As he leaned back in his chair For, when he awoke, she'd would be gone But Rip, just simply didn't care Well a hundred years just flew by And his wife was surely dead But when he finally opened his eyes She lay beside him in the bed She awoke while still clutching "The list" for a hundred years For the spider had bitten her also And it brought the man to tears But this story has a happy ending Cause dial-up was a thing of the past They decided to finally get broadband And his internet was fast at last
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Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 7:03 AM UTC
"R.I.P." The Rip Van Winkle Story
the Wonder no longer… I no longer wonder the whose, or is it the who’s, the whys, and even an occasional wherefore art thou, and what’s their real name, are they alive or passed, from whence they came, or, the origins of their names, the name of that movie where what’s his name fell in love with blonde from that tv show, with the detective and the raincoat who always smoked a cigar though was never seen with match or tobacco, these mysteries that nagged, burrs that came mid-sentence, causing grown people to curse and smack their head, now, blessedly put to bed in seconds depending on the goodness of your internet connection… but now I wonder if the world is better off with instantaneous information much of which is hooliganism and mis and dis, made-up-as-you-go-along but now recorded as gospel truth well recall the happy, romantic nature of falling in love across the library table, secret smooching in dusty stacks of tomes, or is it tombs, that were never read but contained the secrets of the universe… but never for too long, for repair and restoration I do take a triple dose of Prevagen, when and if, I remember
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Jul 9, 2023
Jul 9, 2023 at 8:19 AM UTC
Wonder no longer...
Life was never easy for me. Away from mommy and daddy I grew almost alone, but then you came to live with us, and everything got worse. You said mean things to us, specially to me. You nagged about it all, night and day.                                                                             Did we ever do anything right? You told me I was worthless, never loved, just a burden to all of you. You laughed about these scars.                                                                        Did I ever tell you it was you who caused them? Wait... I did! You called me crazy, a ****** mentally deranged.                                                                Do you understand what depression is? I do now. During these years my hatred towards you grew and grew. It got so big I couldn't take it anymore. I plotted your death many times in my head.                                              Should I push you down the hill, or should I give you a lethal dose of drugs? We would all be happy then. But now you are gone... dead. No! It wasn't me who killed you. It was nature... a natural death. I suddenly feel like ****          Killing you in my head. Wishing your death just to find myself missing you when you were gone. I can't bear to think that you died thinking (knowing) I hated you. I don't hate you anymore. I guess I grew up. I guess my feelings were wrong.                                             I miss you. I wish I could have a few last words with you, but it's too late.                                              *I ****** up.* Now all I can do is be strong (for you). I know you're in a better place, and I shall be happy for you. I guess, after all, there's no place for hate in this heart.
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Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 2:52 PM UTC
No Place for Hate.
Life was never easy for me. Away from mommy and daddy I grew almost alone, but then you came to live with us, and everything got worse. You said mean things to us, specially to me. You nagged about it all, night and day.                                                                             Did we ever do anything right? You told me I was worthless, never loved, just a burden to all of you. You laughed about these scars.                                                                        Did I ever tell you it was you who caused them? Wait... I did! You called me crazy, a ****** mentally deranged.                                                                Do you understand what depression is? I do now. During these years my hatred towards you grew and grew. It got so big I couldn't take it anymore. I plotted your death many times in my head.                                              Should I push you down the hill, or should I give you a lethal dose of drugs? We would all be happy then. But now you are gone... dead. No! It wasn't me who killed you. It was nature... a natural death. I suddenly feel like ****          Killing you in my head. Wishing your death just to find myself missing you when you were gone. I can't bear to think that you died thinking (knowing) I hated you. I don't hate you anymore. I guess I grew up. I guess my feelings were wrong.                                             I miss you. I wish I could have a few last words with you, but it's too late.                                              *I ****** up.* Now all I can do is be strong (for you). I know you're in a better place, and I shall be happy for you. I guess, after all, there's no place for hate in this heart.
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And he said that he knows for a fact: Girls with freckles are happier. And I told him I’ve heard That one before, But he said that he made it up on the spot, In the bed we’ve made, our sheets less **** – Creased and dimpled by our weighing bodies – When I nagged on him to tell me what he loves About me on the inside, Where we’re taught what counts, Where you’re not allowed to ask, Where sometimes it’s just too good not to. On the inside, he listed: Lungs, liver, ovaries perhaps – The parts that everyone has, The parts that can be left unspoken. And I told him he’s a ******** But on the outside, he touched my cheeks, I love your freckles because they prove You’ve lived Felt the sun on your skin – it’s sunlight sprinkles, after all Laughed so hard, as they are uneven and all around That way maybe, every time, your laugh Scattered them all.
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Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 1:19 PM UTC
Freckles
Get off my back, ok? I've got heaps of homework I've got a practice internal which looks completely difficult I've got to pack for a field trip even though I don't have all the things, but I'll make do All of which has to be completed in two days. I've been exhausted, Haven't been getting enough sleep I'm not ready for the pressure of school My mind isn't on that level yet Woken up this morning, Nagged to do lots of things As if this pressure isn't enough already. It's only 9:50AM, My day's starting to go down hill, It's turning to **** Can't you see that I'm stressed out? Can't you see I've got enough on my plate? Can't you see I'm fighting back tears? Can't you see I'm trying to motivate myself to do everything else? Are you trying to bring me to my breaking point? It sure as hell feels like it! It makes me want to scream, Throw things, Yell and hit, I want to have a break from all this, Get away until I calm down Can everything just be easy? But I'll square my shoulders and hold my head high, You won't see me cry. No one will see me cry. I'm not going to lose it, I won't make a mess. I'll handle it Do my work, Prepare everything And try be positive. I just need my headphones, That's all I need To block everyone out And get things done. Please, Stay off my back? All I ask for is two days. Two days Without extra pressure, Please? l.v.s
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Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 10:35 PM UTC
Stress
Since the time I was born, I was nurtured as a fawn, My governess looked after me, As my mother had then been a busy bee.. When I grew a little more, Like I was around three or four, I whined and nagged all the way to school, All wrapped up in muffler and wool. I romped,I played, I learnt Through all the years that I grew, Life whispered new lessons in my ears, And everyday I grew into someone new. And now I'm in my adolescence, Too swayed by emotions, impulsive in nature, Vulnerable to the torment of words, Chasing after fame and stature... Yet this is not what I want to be, Let my wings develop completely, One day I'll be soaring up in the sky, Dear Mamma, that day you'll be proud of me!
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Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 8:15 AM UTC
Growing up years
"I love you Jesus," said Sally Anne. "Today I'll do everything I can." All day long she nagged her husband kind Until he thought he would lose his mind. "I love you Jesus!" cried Miss Mary. "Today for others loads I'll carry." Neighbor Alice called and begged for bread. Slamming the phone gave a stone instead. "I love Thee Jesus," said Mrs. Hill "Today how I long to do Thy will!" She laughed at the poor and mocked the lame Then sat and watched a video game. "I love you Jesus," smiled Mrs. Lee. "I'll show what a Christian I can be." Then donning a bright red mini skirt Spent the afternoon a blatant flirt. "I love you Jesus," said Sister Fay. "How I long to read Your Word and pray!" She toiled and sweated all the long day That night so weary she scarce could pray. Five promising His love to proclaim. Which think ye won the test and the game? ~Hilda~
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Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
Five Women
i have loved you in dirt in bathroom stalls bathroom stalls their tainted toilets overflowing clogged like our throats choking on our sinful words words? thoughts thoughts behind iron snags but in the wake of your mind it nagged rusted as the levels rise, but tough as my once adamantine heart brass bound, you left me molten, explosive and fiery vibrant with passion for you in mirrors mirrors wide eyes and nose bleeds to finally feel comfortable enough to BREATHE each others air venom in our veins to know the other even cares once breathless over you, now blowbacks in the damp mud-stained jeans, lipstick stained necks i have loved you in dirt the greens the forests the difference of twelve months the difference of a year, three months and a day 39,657,600 or 9420 seconds 11 or 6525 miles apart two year anni-void-sary ‘skin to skin bonding’ but not how you’d think loving you in dirt- y, ***** girl
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Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
i have loved you in dirt
all day long i get nagged that I ******* up all day long I get to hear the nag say you ******* up all night long I get to hear nag say you loser. all day long it ***** to hear I **** in the morning.
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Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
***** it up
I love it when my wife goes out for the day It means I can leave the toilet seat up and not get nagged
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Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
My Thought For The Day
Another day in the life of a nobody's wife. Nobody there to get in my hair. Not to be nagged by a.n.other. No-one to tell me what I can do. My money only my own can be. Arguing with myself. A pointless exercise. Only exercise I get these days. Is that I power with my pen. Over the years became rather wise. And yet again tell myself, I love that being free. I tell you too but, is it true? If million more years fly by. You know I'll still be me! I still have a lonely bed. No hand to hold. A heart not cold. A zany head. Thank you my friend, I love that equation. Once again I descend on work. Comes across several more needy folk. Feeling sore. A belly ache or back ache. Doc and I will put the world to rights. For now how ever, What ever the weather. A trip up the road,where things stay the same. Where nobodies wife gives nobody pain. Hurts myself not again, I only give myself no more. Guess what my friend, I miss it! By ladylivvi1 © 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
Wife!
I've committed an act so grievously wrong Worst mistake of my life, I don't belong Am feeling so morbidly ashamed My heart and soul are forever maimed My unrelenting conscience nagged at me I will never again be truly free The worst part of all is the hurt she must feel Pain, indignation, disbelief are all real I took her love as something due me Took it for granted so unwisely I have lost the best part of me To never return, can clearly see I'm sorry is such a pitiful phrase Shame, guilt, self hatred and malaise I have an ache in my soul for trespassing I am just heart sick, it's all encompassing I will never allow MYSELF to forgive Not sure with theses feeling I can live I cannot reverse the transgression In my being I've embedded a lesson Don't know what possessed me to break our bond I plead for forgiveness, if she'll respond I hope our love can withstand and is strong. To forgive, not forget what she knew all along
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Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 6:44 AM UTC
For My Mother
The old terrace house, My childhood home. Sometimes I still dream of its beige concrete walls, The cornflower tiles that lined the kitchen floor, The tall bronze gate, With its red wrought iron flowers. Two cars parked by the front door, One was mom's, The other was yours. In that house, You always sat in the living room, With the TV playing in the background, The morning newspaper in hand. You would buy us our favorite snacks, While mom nagged about our calorie intake. You loved taking us to the movies, While mom always stayed home. The city center condo, The one I never dream of. Its sleek gray walls, Cold blank windows, Offering a view of other monotonous condos, Lights blinking with a sense of urgency, Like a fatalistic warning. In this house, Well... You were never really here. Even when you were, You sat in the living room, With the TV playing in the background, Your eyes glued to your pocket-sized screen. Months later, I left for a faraway land, And you left for the warmth of someone else's bed. When I came home, You were no longer here. But your clothes still hung in the closet, Your deodorant sat by the dresser, Your belongings untouched, Collecting dust, Waiting to be reclaimed. But you never returned for them, Instead, You had them replaced. New shirts, Made from Chinese silk and linen, New musk cologne, Reeking of toxic masculinity, And not to mention, A new wife who cooks and cleans, And excels in the bedroom.   A new home, With clean white walls, And quiet empty rooms. So I bought you a housewarming gift, Something I know you would like, A coir doormat that says, "Welcome Home."
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Dec 28, 2019
Dec 28, 2019 at 12:35 AM UTC
Welcome Home
The old terrace house, My childhood home. Sometimes I still dream of its beige concrete walls, The cornflower tiles that lined the kitchen floor, The tall bronze gate, With its red wrought iron flowers. Two cars parked by the front door, One was mom's, The other was yours. In that house, You always sat in the living room, With the TV playing in the background, The morning newspaper in hand. You would buy us our favorite snacks, While mom nagged about our calorie intake. You loved taking us to the movies, While mom always stayed home. The city center condo, The one I never dream of. Its sleek gray walls, Cold blank windows, Offering a view of other monotonous condos, Lights blinking with a sense of urgency, Like a fatalistic warning. In this house, Well... You were never really here. Even when you were, You sat in the living room, With the TV playing in the background, Your eyes glued to your pocket-sized screen. Months later, I left for a faraway land, And you left for the warmth of someone else's bed. When I came home, You were no longer here. But your clothes still hung in the closet, Your deodorant sat by the dresser, Your belongings untouched, Collecting dust, Waiting to be reclaimed. But you never returned for them, Instead, You had them replaced. New shirts, Made from Chinese silk and linen, New musk cologne, Reeking of toxic masculinity, And not to mention, A new wife who cooks and cleans, And excels in the bedroom.   A new home, With clean white walls, And quiet empty rooms. So I bought you a housewarming gift, Something I know you would like, A coir doormat that says, "Welcome Home."
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58
There were four of us Me, my best friend, Sam, with the long hair his annoying friend who constantly nagged and there was his sweet little sister No, we won't go biking around the neighbourhood I say to my mum. We did. The streets are empty I'm off like there's no tomorrow wanting to be the first hungry for adventure never stopping to rest or even contemplate the ride. The nag would nag but follow the sweet little sister would follow me everywhere, even when I led her into trouble. Stray dogs trespassing onto private land navigating gutters climbing small hills getting mangoes down from the trees Sam had his own time, stopping, savouring and watching Etching everything in his mind. Content in what he did listening to the music that he only heard ignoring the noise that I released
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Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 5:24 AM UTC
There were 4 of us
A point of guilt In my heart sealed Insanity gets built No way to be healed Yes, my life is reckless Ugly thoughts linger I feel so hopeless Cutting off a finger There is no pain No cry, not a single tear Nothing to gain Ending this life, without fear It's not a dare To harm myself more Life just ain't fair My mind is at war Standing on the edge Just one leap To face with death My birth was cheap Poison darts pierce my skin Injecting daily addictives All I've done is sin No light no directives End of life in a second But a small hand begged To stay till the end A child of neglect, nagged My reflection pulled me over To face my inner child's cry I looked at myself, closer Why everything seemed a lie? More thoughts purged in my head Death was not my exit yet When shows of life is led I shall fight, until my goals are met... ©sim
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Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 9:22 PM UTC
Inner Guilt
i am made of flaws, stitched together by good intentions; but it’s hard to stay intact, when you constantly rip at my seams. you pull and tug, until i become unravelled, and i'm just a piece of string, that you shove in your pocket. and, much like string, i'm useless on my own; i need to tie myself to someone. but you and i, tied ourselves together too quickly and, like my hair that you always nagged me to brush, we became more knotted, more tangled with time. but as time went on, we insisted that we were fine, we could just use our fingers; but it wasn’t until we stood at the mirror, staring at our own matted destruction, that we realized: no comb could possibly be strong enough to make us beautiful again.
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 8:36 AM UTC
fall out
You finally said You wanted me to leave though I'd already tried to
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Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 9:02 AM UTC
and you nagged me for it
Is it not strange, it seems so to me How much women change after matrimony When we went steady for every date She did not spend hours getting ready, was not always late She was more than happy with the smallest present She never once nagged me, was always so pleasant. She always looked great, stood out in the crowd Always telling her mates how I made her so proud. A love life so fantastic, every single night Though marriage seemed drastic it all seemed so right Yes I was her king and could totally understand Her constantly hinting I would make a great husband. I eventually said Yes and we strode down the aisle All was joy and happiness, for a short while But then it all went wrong, very unhappily The honeymoon did not last that long, regrettably Her nagging was incessant, she was always in a strop I welcomed the silent treatment; it made the nagging stop She spent more time out shopping than she did with me Never stopped ‘til she was dropping, I was facing bankruptcy Yet when we were going anywhere, (which became a rare thing) she never had a thing to wear, which meant even more shopping. Our love life was non existent; she never cut me a break She seemed to have an almost persistent, night time headache She let herself go, some days not even getting dressed She put on a pound or so which had her constantly stressed She started comfort eating and took to the wine of a night There was no point in my speaking, it always ended in a fight. Try as I might, she never seemed to be satisfied It seems I could do no right, though God knows I tried. There was nothing I could say, even less that I could do I thought fondly of our wedding day when our love was true She never seemed to think of me like she did before though hand on heart honestly, I could do no more I tried absolutely everything but it was all in vain Told her I would do anything to have her love me again But everything she loved about me, she now seemed to hate She treated me like I was the enemy, it was all too late So I walked out the door thinking what an awful shame vowing never to get married anymore, thanks all the same.
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 3:57 AM UTC
The Change ♀
Is it not strange, it seems so to me How much women change after matrimony When we went steady for every date She did not spend hours getting ready, was not always late She was more than happy with the smallest present She never once nagged me, was always so pleasant. She always looked great, stood out in the crowd Always telling her mates how I made her so proud. A love life so fantastic, every single night Though marriage seemed drastic it all seemed so right Yes I was her king and could totally understand Her constantly hinting I would make a great husband. I eventually said Yes and we strode down the aisle All was joy and happiness, for a short while But then it all went wrong, very unhappily The honeymoon did not last that long, regrettably Her nagging was incessant, she was always in a strop I welcomed the silent treatment; it made the nagging stop She spent more time out shopping than she did with me Never stopped ‘til she was dropping, I was facing bankruptcy Yet when we were going anywhere, (which became a rare thing) she never had a thing to wear, which meant even more shopping. Our love life was non existent; she never cut me a break She seemed to have an almost persistent, night time headache She let herself go, some days not even getting dressed She put on a pound or so which had her constantly stressed She started comfort eating and took to the wine of a night There was no point in my speaking, it always ended in a fight. Try as I might, she never seemed to be satisfied It seems I could do no right, though God knows I tried. There was nothing I could say, even less that I could do I thought fondly of our wedding day when our love was true She never seemed to think of me like she did before though hand on heart honestly, I could do no more I tried absolutely everything but it was all in vain Told her I would do anything to have her love me again But everything she loved about me, she now seemed to hate She treated me like I was the enemy, it was all too late So I walked out the door thinking what an awful shame vowing never to get married anymore, thanks all the same.
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40
I sat one day at the table and remembered, Because my coffee was too sweet, The time of walks and wonderlands, And where we used to meet. To simple stars and great big clouds, All troubled dreams we'd shout, And then we'd run by house and stream, Till our sweet daylight had run out. "Time catches up to all of us" -- You nagged me, and I'd jeer, But now a man has loved dearly and lost, A flower he held so near. My dear, you died so suddenly, So swiftly, and then gone, But at home our flowers were not yet watered, And your memory pushed me on. And so for both of us I now carry dear, Our old and aged sweet smiles, I'll pour sugar to my coffee, my hand will slip, And I'll see the girl for whom I'd have walked miles.
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Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 7:52 PM UTC
I remembered