How long shall we continue this charade?
I have all night, my darling, perhaps even
eternity if my wish were to come true. But,
then of course, if that happened, you would
be surplus to requirement. Just another toy
to pass the time. At least then you'd know
how it feels to be cast aside for another, to
be made fearful of rejection. The broken
little dolly that no-one wants to love.
How extraordinary we shall looked paired
beside one another on the shelf; the resting
place for empties, still clinging to lost dreams.
A/N: I don't really know why I've started writing my poems like this, but there we go.