Drinking Under the Moon

“To be a poet is a condition, not a profession” – Robert Graves

Make me hate you a little more

Make me hate you a little more
Leave me long and throw me hard
Out along this pebble shore.

It’s easier if you are wrong,
If I’m the one left cut and scarred.
But, I’m the one that’s always strong

Not here, a worn arthritic hip
A thrown out tattered calling card,
That down a drain will roughly slip.

Not here, I’ve come apart on you,
From this love you’ve left me marred
A victim to a heart that’s barred.
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This entry was posted on November 22, 2014 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , .