Or spin a web to write a poem?
You look at me with eyes of dread
As if I were your poisoned bed
I fondle you in moments of passion
And you fake pleasure after a fashion
Where exactly did we disconnect?
Was it when I decided to reconnect
With a system I loath and despise?
Probably, no doubt there were spies
Who told you of my fatal change of heart
Fortressed you against me from the start
So we simper into the gloom of domesticity
Blaming each other for own complicity
© shaun patrick green 2011
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