Love Poem: Bridget Jones Break Up For All You Girls

Bridget Jones Break Up For All You Girls

The crumbs beneath the tablecloth 
Have been there for the best part of a week
And the smell of malting cats has finally begun to reek 
The carpet dust has become as visible as rust
The bin is overflowing from Bottles of cheap wine
And her work shoes are lying unused.
She really isn't taking this breakup well
As so this scene of desperation tells
Plenty of more fish in the sea
Or are busy rotting alongside yesterday's take away chips
In theory all she needs to do
Is take a long soak in a bubble bath
And forge a different path
Bit this isn't the movie's 
She isn't Bridget Jones
What she is in actual fact is
Pissed off at home alone
With no battery life on her phone