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By B.K. Date: 2020 Jul 20 Comment on this Work [[2020.07.20.12.51.19348]] |
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We were sitting on my back porch Leaning into the door Holding one another Liplocked While it rained I had already decided That I was changing boyfriends The first time you kissed me But that was not to be I got mad at you Because you said I was too young To go to a dance at the high school Ohhh I was mad So then you wrote me this note Asking if it was him I liked or you Pick one I lied I said him I think you set it all off My temper and My choice of all the wrong men It was all your fault We were childhood next-door neighbors Just kids playing Board games, cards, marbles, Basketball, football, torture Yes torture Cowboys and Indians I was the Indian But it seems we both were shot With life arrows Today you were jogging A motorcycle hit you And your spirit flew away And now I will not be able to tell you After all these years It was all your fault That I lied. The seventh of july twenty twenty bk |