Flirt
Flirt
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
She says
" Flirt
You getting old
Your style is mould.
Your hearty charm
Is now stale as cake.
Take your seven
Empty promises
To the squirels.
Eight you could
Not keep.
Nine was your last chance.
Now you looking
Down and shy
When you were
Told tie your
Shoe laces chickenman ! "
He says
" Flirt
You were just
A pretty skirt
Nothing is forever
Could not make
It better
Your turn on
Is now under
Control.
I just circling
In doubt.
If you know
What i am
Then let me go
With my ego.
The show is over now ! "
Secrets ...
They never have
Happy endings.
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