Reality

Found an old poem.....

Why would he do me like that

Leave scattered messages on his finger tips

The relationship he created lingers in his heart

While our forgotten love is bunched up in his pocket

Next to the phone that goes off every second when I'm not around

Seems like every time she comes around I magically disappear

While I'm stuck with sir lies-a lot

I look into his face n I don't know him

Stupid me thinking he could escape the dumb man gene

I refuse to keep walking by his side when he gets side track every hour, every day, every month

And next year it will be a new one

I have fallen victim to this pattern because love is a diease

But reality shall be my cure