Be Careful Of My Game Poem by Jona'e Levett

if i were to tell you that i used you,
would you care?
if i were to say you were a game,
could you belive?
you may think i am merely selfish now,
but i was then.
to be my game was all you had to give,
how does it feel?
and now in hind sight i feel what i had wanted,
superior.
i know your average poem is about that heart to heart,
that victom.
but what about the doer of the deed?
had their been no one like me,
to make you yearn for love, no one would ever know to read.
and this is not me gloating, or a trophy case of sorts
but merely my confession of my deeds.
for i have been the devil of the poems you create,
and never once have i been maymed or reamed.
for all that i deserve, this sport has shown my evil side,
i made you yearn for something you cant touch.
when i get that close, i never fail to pull away,
and sadly your reactions just to much.
it only took a day to hook you, it took you months to cease to call.
the guilt it griped me when i pushed ignore.
but once i found a new conquest, no melody that lingered
could keep me from the chase just this once more.