Seven cars sat parked by the woods
Three souped up motor bikes,
The night like an oil slick
I remember the dance hall music rocking and rolling
The diaphanous lights in the trees
The way your jaw grew tight
When I said it was over
‘But I love you, ’ you begged
As if that somehow made things right
I broke your heart
And it didn’t hurt one bit
You, with the ring in your hand
Your dark hair greased in a flick
Who’d have thought you’d snivel and cry?
Well truth’s best told.
No point in dragging things out
Clean break
Goodbye
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem