Sometimes he’s like a bull, he can only see the red
And he cannot form a thought, when it’s her that’s in his head
And he cannot figure out, how to remove the friend that’s in his bed
And I swear she’s so devout, she won’t give him any space to tred
© Delia Ross. 2019
A brilliant poem. You have such a talent! 🖤
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Oh thank you! I thought it may have been too shitty to share.
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Jesus!! If you think that’s shitty I’d hate to think of the ones you don’t share!!! 😳
Honestly, this one, as is standard for you, is fab 👍🖤
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That gives me some feel good juice that I need. Thanks so much.
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No problem! 👍
Happy to help 😁🖤
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Your poems are nice and short and very well drafted.
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Hi, thank you! I’m really glad you dig! I do have a 3 part epic tragedy I once wrote, if you’re up for a long read. Just search in my search box thingy “My Son”. 😊
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Ill be sure to check it out sometime. Keep on writing and blogging.
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No pressure. And thank you Tony. ✌️
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