It's nice to know I'm just a tool,
To be made out a fool.
To never know your true intentions,
Taking advantage of my affections.
Too late for your empty apologies,
At least any I could swallow with ease.
Take your lowered head to a phone,
Call someone who will answer your tone.
As for me, I can no longer hear your call,
Whatever we were has come to a stall.
Sorry escapes your lips with no regret,
Means as much as if you just lit another cigarette.
Brings only false relief,
To my ever growing grief.
Even though my heart lies here broken,
I give you this, my last lovers token.
When next you meet that one person that blows your mind,
Hold onto them as if they are the greatest treasure you could ever find.
Fore they may be your last chance at happiness,
Because no one deserves a life full of emptiness.
~RRJ~
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Quotoems!
PoesíaQuotes & Poems written as the inspiration, love, darkness, self reflection, and some are just plain out there. Enjoy!
