PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A high-dea sprung from anger and wrath,
when you took a left i took the psycho-path,
subtracted me from the equation and after the math,
lonely represented by E, even after a bath,
still i feel dirty, part of my soul has become filthy,
if it takes two to tango where does that leave me?
could i be a high roller, rich and filthy,
or do i become bipolar, lonely even at fifty,
i may not have been able to reach her,
still i want to mentor young minds becoming a teacher,
sure it's her who murdered me, must i plea any further?
let me use that time to move on, i'm truly sick of her,
twisting her hair making me dye brunette,
spend as much New Years time with me and again i'll vomit,
not about the one i called, wish i knew how to quit,
wish i could take my own advice, i'm always picking up more shit.