The Cry From a Ghetto's Heart | Page 14

Hit By a Slug

Her attitude flips like pancakes.

As I suffer from past mistakes trying to relate a little bit more.

Unsure if the cure is here anymore.

What was pure now somehow feels tainted.

Stained with marks from her past…

What was happiness at last just seems to be a thing of the past.

Dinners become “Ass to Kiss!”

When this was suppose to be it.

My last meal doesn’t seem too real…

“Was I served a plate of shit?”

Or maybe I trust in women too much.

God’s touch is becoming scratches and bruises.

To love feels useless when the proof is…

Phones being checked…

Mental neglect…

A lack of respect even in talking...

She is running and I’m walking.

Tossing and turning…

Burning my heart and smelling the ash.

We make promises of forever, but it feels like the 100yd dash.

Quicker than rejection from bad credit.

I just don’t get it.

These were not the plans.

Yet and still here I stand.

A relationship where still I’m a lonely man…

Disconnected from family and friends…

Did I let her in and she sucked me dry?

It feels easier to die rather than move on.

Like a battered woman I must be strong.

Cause promises are just becoming words.

Words are becoming unheard.

Jokes become absurd…

The vision becomes blurred.

I should have paid more attention.

Dug deeper with my questions…

Paid more attention to what became unmentioned.