The Bitter Half
I never liked you, remember that;
If we didn't jive, I can't blame you,
You were touchy, you were vindictive, you were self-righteous.
I know I cannot fault you for not setting me free.
How soon young love becomes a fetter:
We've been together for thirteen years;
I can be heartless, I admit it:
They say a girl becomes a woman at thirty;
|Copyright © 2005 - Makarand Paranjape|