Poetry

The man I used to love

He is happy in the hands of the her I don’t know by the name

I would wish to be her

But my heart he played like a game

Never did anything to make me feel better 

He was just salt to my pain

Now he loves the her I don’t know by the name

And that hurts

But it hurts more to think he wouldn’t treat me the same

He is the man I  used to love

 

Sharon Mo ©

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