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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=535914" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>No mo' hurt</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=535914" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">> Damn! him, mother Fletcher! <br>> I gave him my best years<br>> And I end up in tears.<br>> <br>> I truly need to let go<br>> I just can't take his sh- no mo'<br>> I hate it when I smell his t-shirt<br>> I hate it when I find his dirt<br>> <br>> <br>> I truly need to let go<br>> Growing in me this rage<br>> <br>> Like a killer on stage<br>> You know he going to strike<br>> You've seen the play<br>> At it's ending everything is ok<br>> Things will be done my way<br>> I am the super dish on the plate<br>> I am not little, I am not late<br>> <br>> Time to let go <br>> Time to be really free<br>> I need to know who is me.<br>> <br>> <br>> I've got one<br>> foot out of the door'<br>> All... his stuff in the middle of the floor<br>> <br>> <br>> Burnt the t-shirts<br>> Vacuumed up the dirt<br>> For this lady there is no mo' hurt.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=whisperkwane+Lamb">whisperkwane Lamb</a></strong></div>