I told you how to love me but you never listened
I gave you a book to read but you never read it,
I told you what to say but you never said it,
you told me that through anything we would tread it,
I had to leave but I knew I would dread it.
You begged and you pled,
screamed until you saw red,
but the book remained unread,
overed in dust, spine beginning to rust
like an elder rotting in bed.
There were instructions written,
no matter how much I was smitten,
I told you to read but you were never driven,
to open the spine but I was never forgiven.












