The Baggage Of Love - Poem by Orlando Belo
I'm glad she can't see my tears,
in this pouring rain,
or see the hurt I've been feeling,
time and time again.
I some-how guess that she knows it,
but enjoys stringing me along.
My self-respect vanished a long time ago,
and I dance to whatever song.
Okay, she treats me mean and bad,
and uses me all the time,
but what can someone like me do?
I know that love is blind.
She has no regrets for her two timing,
and she tells it as it is to me.
It hurts so much when she does this,
I don’t need a commentary.
I don't know why I put up with her,
our relationship is such a mess,
but she is my only reason for living,
and with her, comes the baggage of stress.
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