Poem #44

I would build a bridge just to hug you,
you wouldn’t cross the street for me.
I would plant a garden of roses for you,
you wouldn’t pick a daisy to put in my hair.
I would write books of poetry about us,
you wouldn’t respond to a text.
You are my first choice,
I am your last resort.
I am aware of this truth now and
you are on your own.

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11 replies on “Poem #44”

My immediate response was a sassy “Didn’t know how good ya had it, didja?” in a mock New York accent. Then I composed myself and thought that this was a very nice, very real description of what some relationships are like: especially the part where the approaches of either party differ so drastically. But the twist at the end was a very, very welcome conclusion. Thank you for this.

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