I can’t be your fool, your fool.
Can’t be wrapped in cellophane,
Put on a pink and white display.
I can’t be doting or pleasing,
Instead I will laugh in your face,
And prank you with hung up calls.
I can’t leave something gritty, dirty,
Unless it’s for months in a mug,
Under my bed near forgotten socks,
Or leave my room for half an hour,
Without having bombshell go off,
But bless me I do mean well,
Even if I tug on you until you blow,
Stay silent and hiding when you call,
Not answer the door when you knock,
Or steal you’re your glass half full.
I can’t be your fool, your fool,
But I will be my own,
And give you free tickets,
To my one heart open show.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like. i know what you mean.