the green on his clothes,
could send you to the motherland.
love is the only thing she knows,
but she tries to withstand.
he sells his love to delicate flowers,
and leaves before they wilt.
sometimes she says his name out loud,
just so she can taste it.
her short-lived sanity bids her adieu,
and she proudly shows it the exit.
to him variety is one of God’s many blessings,
and love, a pesky obstacle you must forfeit.
she grows tired of his games,
and this relationship stained with love & deceit.
but she’d rather feel pain,
than remain cold and empty.
(I wrote this poem in 2013)