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Sub-Standard Is The Giving Of My Love
Sub-standard to you is the giving of my love.
Do you remember when it see-sawed,
Between excellent and moderate?
Before below sub-par it went.
And your nagging sent me away quite a bit.
For days at a time!
And I returned looking and feeling exuberant.
With no explanation how my joyous time was spent.
Sub-standard to you is the giving of my love.
And I agree the taste of it has been irregular.
With a flavor leftover,
Even the cat turns away.
Sour it is and sits in decay.
Yet when I gave it you thought it to be mixed,
With foolish gift giving and childish nonsense.
Close I came to dipping your chocolate mints in cement.
And today you demand why I express not interest?
I get a better response when I shake an empty paper bag,
While sitting alone on a park bench.
Surrounded by squirrels giving me at least 'some' attention.
And all I have to do is to pretend I am there to give.
poem
by
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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