I'm not the kind of girl you'd write poetry about
I don't have a face you'd go to war for
You wouldn't use soft metaphors to describe me
Or risk your life to win me back
Yet I am like a summer's day,
Scorching and unforgiving, even late into the night
Like a great battle,
I leave a wake of wounded.
Rebuttal (Sad n True),
Yea, battle hardened: I get that.
Pessimistic, and hard headed too
I get it all, fought along with the best of them
Cried along with the rest of them
The laughter piling on
The flailing bodies still flailing, smiling, falling all around.
Fight babe, rail against the coming of the hate
Forgetting, burying the worst of them,
(And me?)
Or at least enough to put the sword a down.
A charnel hate beginning to grow,
that dreaded war amoungst ourselves.
Sing then:
Throw a tune out, to see who hums along.
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