No ratings.
This is the last one. It has no real clear form. |
The thousandth time So, now I know I've said this a thousand times and there is no reason to put this in rhyme. And it is clear that all this verse is nothing but utterly rehearsed. I forgive everything always. I think you might know this. But my liver, well it's a tad pissed. It can't get over all you've done to it. One day when I drive home and wrap my car around a tree. I hope you read this poem. I hope you think of me. Who is crying then, we will see. I just want to get all this out It's either this or get drunk and pout. However my liver is already quite pissed, Due to my usual way of dealing with being dismissed But when I try to say the words If at that point they are even that these things whatever they are get trapped and I despite common sense fail to act. See, now you know the secret to my success-ive failure. I get this idea in my little old head of mine. I keep it up there until I'm about to die. Then the trick is to do nothing until you get drunk and cry. That is why for the thousandth time, I, to you apologize for when the words come out wrong, or my tongue slips, even just a little bit. For in my head, the issue has been put to bed. As I'm laying there with you in my mind. Only this time you are oh so kind. To where it goes from here, I leave to your imagination, because I know where mine has been and for the thousandth time you're the star of that fictional creation. |