Last night

poem by: Aina A
Written on Oct 12, 2016 

It's 3am on Tuesday.
The things he says apparently he doesn't mean.
He tells me that he misses me, with his twisty lying tongue.
The morning brings the usual apologies for pains that words have done.
I am just as I was last time heart broken and undone.

 

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A previous user commented:
Good poem. To the point.

 

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