you threw your scraps at me. . .
like a handful of broken dirty peanuts,
and the crowd felt my pain....
but you thought it was cute...some kind of
immature side show for brats in spoilage.
you cut your eyes at me. . .
as if i should feel no embarrassment
for associating my name with yours...
after all...we've been in this game
for a long long time and i should be
used to being used by you.
and on the way home down our
red white and blue road, you pretend'd
to have manners...to hold the door open for me.
no thank you....i'd rather take a taxi that
ride the same old beast for four more years.
now don't get me wrong...i'm sure you're still
a really nice guy under public circumstances,
but my your for you grows musty, and as
nice as you seem to seem to seem....
they have watch'd the cardinal game
and my conclusion is this. . .
until i choose, you lose.
© 2008 cynth’ya lewis reed
all rights reserv’d
(P.S. General Patton said a good decision made right now is better than an excellent decision made later. Choose to win, and don't wait for someone to give you permission to do so.)...clr