A Toast to the Heartbroken
Here's for the heart that I gave a third time.
A penny for my thoughts? Or a pound for the rhyme?
Both are more than she could possibly afford,
for my pound is of gold, for her heart this cold.
Dear, take or leave it, that's my conclusion.
Now make your choice to avoid some illusion,
that I could to you give more than a laugh,
for your whorish mouth or the thoughts of a tart.
Your claims were misgivings, of satire encased
in the lie of our love in attempts to save face
'Well take his cock and suck it', I'll say simply.
'Its fine, I don't care if this is destiny
That you became a slut who now cannot think
beyond his dick, there must be a link,
the one that's missing or not repaired, as crowds gather to stop and stare
with questioning eyes, as you shame the pride
it is to be human with the tearing of ties.'
Now, a toast to the ones who ended our dreams,
of the children inside with the eyes that gleam
Innocence lost, and humility earned
whilst emotion controls as you pray they all burn.
I beseech you, be calm - we've known scars to heal.
In pain there is strength if at first you don't yield.
So a toast to us all, who shall have no regret.
My advice, don't forgive, but I hope you forget.