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When you passed, you didn’t get pleased. You got pumped, pleasured and dumped. You got pushed over, pushed down and plowed but not wowed and certainly not vowed. What you took was temporary. It was tease. It was him saying “please?”
When I dig deep, I don’t do it for dollars. I do it for fun and free. I do it because it makes for a better me. When you run, you run rampant and you run wild. You run screaming like a frightened child. You run right past me and over to he. He, who’s sitting, watching, playing but never reading while you’re not listening to what I’m saying. What I say stinks and stuns but years from now, you see wisdom, tamed wild, no longer child. The one you wish were yours has left because you left him, didn’t love him, let go of him and now you’re stuck, stranded, hit and heavy handed with a love not lingering any longer than my lust had lasted. But that lust past’id and what was left was me, not he, the boy who could only tease with “please”, but lied as his lips crumbled and decayed only after you’d already been swayed.
One day you will see, you should have chosen honest, affirming me rather than young and lying he. For who will prop you up and praise you when you’re well beyond your years? I would cherish and amaze you while I kissed away your tears. Instead, young beauty, you’ve been guiled and tricked, deceived; picking a passing, shallow plea rather than timeless integrity. You’ve chosen bronze, substitute he over platinum, absolute me.