Our Love

Blonde hair, blue eyes,

sometimes he makes me ask why,

His heart is cold,

he likes to act bold,

But I love him like Sally loves Jack,

it's like I’m soaring to the moon and back.

Nevertheless I’m growing tired,

it's always the same old satire,

“I lost my phone”,

“get off my back you’re breaking my bones”,

He says he's all good,

but he still hides under his hood.

My frustration grows by the day,

he never says what he has to say,

One day I break,

I don’t hold back for my own sake,

His eyes are wide,

it's like our worlds have come together to collide.

Finally I stop and take a breath,

his behavior portrays the dance of death,

He stares at me for awhile,

I slowly become less vile,

Suddenly he's saying sorry while his arms are around me,

I guess this is how it will always be.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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