You made me promises,
You could not keep,
So I sit here alone,
My head in my lap..........and weep,
With thoughts of you running round my head,
Wishing now that you were dead!
You wrote me poems,
Made me laugh,
And now I feel like the fattened calf,
Lied to, deceived, Led to the alter,
Prime and ready for the slaughter,
My, what a............you really were,
And I such a fool.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem