You weren't the first,
but you certainly were the worst.
Complaining, moaning, constant groaning.
I think it's time for you to get going.
Always clucking like a hen.
Will this nightmare ever end?
You steal my stuff,
so you can go out and buy a bit.
Worst of all though you stole my heart.
Now in your face I loudly fart.
Sweet relief when we finally part.
I can't take anymore it's just too hard.
You beat me down with vicious words,
sometimes beating me with such strenuous verve.
I've had enough you useless witch.
Now I'm hoping a bus,
to what city God knows which.
Well so long and burn in hell.
I suppose we'll see each other there.
Michael McParland's Other Poems
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