She treats you like a puppet
hanging on a string.
When she's all done playing
she gives you a fling.
In the closet all alone
wondering what to do.
Thinking did she ever really love you.
Then one day she came back
picking up your strings.
And you picked up all thos
mean things
You let her pick you up.
I don't think you give a F*.*.*!
I do, but this is all I'll say
to you...
Be Careful.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem