Disappointed I am
With the way you think,
About what we were,
And what you now inked.
(Feel like) I’ve wasted my life,
Tryin’ to keep you in the pink,
Wanted to buy you happiness,
Maybe diamonds, even mink.
‘That’ll never work, never,’
Said the bloody shrink.
I’d thrown it all, darling,
My everything in your rink.
But you turned professional,
Pushing me off the brink.
Do you ever feel guilty?
Do you even stop to think?
The rubbish you spout,
Does nothing but stink.

Tagged: poetry