YES, I LOVE YOU, BUT...
The purple night lifts its knife
And hits me where I hurt most
Why did you run from my side
Desert me when I needed
Your guardian angel eyes
And yes,
I love you
But
Where is the food
The drink
The luscious whipped dessert
You promised would be on the tray
Where are the hors d'oeuvres
The cocktails
And those delicious little finger sandwiches
Man cannot live on extravagant gestures alone
If I am to love only you
You must fill me up, leaving no doubts
If not, I am hopping a train to the city
And yes, I love you
But
Where is the food
The drink
The luscious whipped dessert
You promised would be on the tray
-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2024
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
A poem from my archives circa 1983. Do not for the life of me know who or what inspired it. I was not involved with anyone at that time in my life. I must have just been visited by an angry Muse!
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