I won the war,
The ground felt up,
With velvet carpets,
And public pools,
Of your blood.

I wished you the best,
But that wasn't good enough,
Instead you insisted,
To fill my heart,
With hopeless worry.

I hated the poetry,
Lines of symmetry,
You'd point out,
Upon the city.

It wasn't like before,
I wasn't demanding.


Didn't feel caught up,
I told you so,
You'd fall down,
Before I even got up,
And said anything.

I don't love you anymore, goodbye.

Do you get that?
You didn't get that.

Now take it to your grave.
 
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