I placed it in the trash but he said it wasn’t broke
I put it on the shelf then he said it doesn’t work
I offered him a piece but he didn’t take my pie
Yet he doesn’t want me giving it to another guy
Anytime that I move forward there appears another gate
But if I turn around he’s flagging to go straight
I might have said some things that I never meant to say
But he will plead the fifth or look the other way
I tried to read the signs but they’re written in foreign
And even if they were it wouldn’t stop me from adoring
I really wish he liked me but he doesn’t think I’m witty
I don’t fall on the list of girls that he finds pretty
I listened to his reason but it’s confusion front-and-center
And when I said I loved him the season turned to winter
I stumble through the weather like I am a zombie
And watching me break must be his favorite hobby
© Delia Ross. 2019
