Until I talked to you
You, my friend, have problems
And more continue to brew
Your love life is in shambles
Your credit cards are maxed
You hate coming to work each day
Owe a fortune in income tax
Not much I can do for you
While your wallowing in self pity
I could say some pithy words
Or we could leave this city
Maybe take a little trip
To try and change your mood
You know that we would have to come back
And it would probably be to soon
I think that you are on your own
There’s nothing I can do
You’ll have to climb out of this alone
You may be totally screwed
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
No comments:
Post a Comment