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  Home > Romance > Poetry
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Kathy A. E. Jones

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Member Since: Nov, 2007

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Popular Poetry (Romance)
  1.  A Merging of Wills
  2.  Finger Me Gently
  3.  Such A Woman
  4.  How Much I Love You
  5.  loss of modality
  6.  YOUR SPIRITUAL BEING ...
  7.  Immersed
  8.  Let Me Be Your Pacifier...
  9.  Sexy
  10.  The Art of the Night
  11.  For Every Gorgeous Day
  12.  Fifty Golden Years
  13.  A Dozen Red Roses
  14.  When Love Dies
  15.  No One Else But Her
  16.  Forbidden Treasure...
  17.  Peace Or Passion...
  18.  When the Heart Soars
  19.  Affectueux
  20.  moon shadow



Love Gone Wrong
by Kathy A. E. Jones

Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Kathy A. E. Jones
•  Today Is The Day
•  I Prayed For You
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•  Keep On Flopping
           >> View all 5

Love can be a trap but you don't have to accept that.

Love Gone Wrong

 

The man I love can’t love me

He tries but all his eyes can see

Is how much I give, and I give too much

Especially when I’m in his arms

and longing for his touch

 

The man I love won’t let me love myself

If I did, he’d be somewhere on a back shelf

With him there’s no way, to see those dark clouds approaching

I’m blinded by his thighs, and yet I keep hoping

 

The thought of being alone frightens me to no end,

So I keep him around, saying he’s just a good friend.

The choice wasn’t mine, not so long ago

I was surrounded by those who really cared, but my blindness closed their doors.

 

He’s not just my friend, he’s cover for so much more

The pains in my past, yes the loves that did not last, and I’m left crying on the floor.

He’s company at the table in the restaurant I love so well.

It’s his opened gift on birthdays, since my friends forget to mail.

He the chuffer in that car that I’ve driven down so many lonely roads

Maybe that’s why I keep giving him my new number, and buying him expensive clothes.

 

He helps pay my bill, - without a legal job, but if he rides the RTA he’s sure to get mobbed.

He maintains a secret life, that just might get me killed,

Yet I must admit -  there’s just something about that thrill

When I’m on his side, no one messes with me, but the truth lies deep inside, one day I hope to be free.

 

And yes theirs the other women, I wish would burn in hell

But then who would take care of all his kids and offer to pay his bail.

I’m in church every Sunday, and at the altar at least twice a month,

Lord I need your help, deliver me from me and this punk.

 

Then in His still small voice He reminds me of what my mama said.

 

If you keep him out your BED

Your mind WILL clear your head

And your heart will find its way HOME

 

 

© 5/2011 Kathy A. E. Jones

 

 

 

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