Poor; Poor, Chris Poem by Randy McClave

Poor; Poor, Chris



Poor; poor, Chris
Let's pity him as his life is amiss,
He was looking for love and desire
But, once again he gets burnt by its fire;
He yells and then he screams
He has nightmares and not ever dreams,
A young man he is in fact
But, pretty soon he will have a heart attack;
He cries that he is treated like trash
And all that he is wanted for is his cash,
Now I will speak to him on his own behalf
Behind his back everyone does laugh;
He says by his love he is rejected
And he shouts that he is always neglected,
With his constant rambling he is told to halt
But he allowed it, so it is really his own fault;
So, I say to him be a man and pull up your pants
Stop your whining and complaining and your rants,
We all are tired of hearing how he’s been mistreated and used
And I am sorry that his pride and his dignity has been bruised;
He was looking for love, companionship and thrills
But, all that he received were heartbreak and bills,
I say either leave her, or suck it up and stay
But, if it were me; I would just walk away.

Randy L. McClave

Saturday, June 27, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: sorrow
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Randy McClave

Randy McClave

Ashland, Kentucky
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