His love is like Russian Roulette
For all he’s had and still not found love yet
Under his reign I had many debts
The lost and wounded are his favorite pet’s
Losing you won’t give him any regrets
He’s already forgotten you I bet
His love was like Russian Roulette
It doesn’t matter if they are blond or brunette
He’s not interested in her silhouette
Once he’s hooked you he’ll enjoy a cigarette
Making them cry is his largest asset
The only way to go no contact is to move to Tibet
© Delia Ross. 2019
Russian Roulette love. When I was a soldier and single. I called it suicidal love. Never know what you could get. A amazing poem.
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Awe, from one Soldier to another, thank you!
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You are welcome Delia. I love your name.
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Thank you! I appreciate that. I’m sort of hooked on words. 🙂
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I may use in my story. Dark days of Texas. Delia, a cool name. And you are welcome.
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🙂
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I love words. Been writing for 50 years. Good to have found your site.
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I’m happy too! 😎
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