What am I but skin and bones
A kingdom of right and wrongs
A street of worry and heavy are each stone
Once his muse, now a girl who moans
Watch how he exits and dethrones
He hasn’t a backbone

What am I but a bruise that won’t heal
And to his lies I won’t back down and kneel
And to his demise just a fifth wheel
And why I’m the scapegoat I’ve no idea

There is no resolution, there is no choice
There is no evidence of a voice
Now pull the plug but don’t rejoice
His love is simply white noise

© Delia Ross. 2019

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