Over The Top
I told you: There is such a thing as too much of a good thing
Over the top, to the nines, overdrive.
It could have been so good
Yet, you blew it.
Instead of me wanting more:
I got sick of it
Sick of you
Sick that you are low class
Sick that you are stupid
Sick that you are a loser.
And before I get sick of me too:
Get out of my sight.
*Circa 2008*
poem by June FeirCruz
Added by Poetry Lover
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