In the dumps
Well here goes retrospect
when a man gets into your soul,
there is no looking back,
like tossing, turning, feinding
for that wildn out,
like staring at the clock,
when the work is piling up,
like waiting on that text,
getting pinned up against the wall,
well tossed, wide open,
eyes rolled back,
the money is low,
happy?
you stay close eyed, wrapped in dark limbs,
making sacrifices.
When a man gets into your soul
the other woman comes out,
the misery starts
like watching pages,
checking messages
reading micro expressions
just to be sure, praying...
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