The Things That You Do Poem by abi Whitaker
The Things That You Do
Babe your digging your own grave
cos im not being your love slave
i had the desire
to enquire
just why you were hitting me
with a cricket bat darling
pretty as a starling
crank up my happy meter
chillin in the two seater
and i pull on my skinny jeans
and hop out of bed
i wont let your name calling get to my head
and that song comes on and i think about you
and the things that you do.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/13/2024 8:51:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
nice im guessin its abt him (the usual usual) : -) xx