Waste Poem by Muriel Ruth Emerson
Waste
Leave me out with the waste
This is not what I do
Why am I here again?
Why did I do this again?
The blood creeps onto the blood stained grass
It's the wrong time
The wrong place to be doing this again
It's the wrong time and place
To be thinking of you
What was I thinking?
It's the wrong place to be cheating on you
Take my gun
Just leave me with the waste
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5/2/2024 5:14:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
