Your Book Of Love

Don’t tell me you’ love me,

or even I’m great,

especially on our second date.

I don’t care if it’s date twenty three,

if you are crazy don’t

ask to marry me.

I know you said it

is written in the stars,

that the psychic told you,

well her head is

on Mars.

In the end we couldn’t

even be friends,

because of your lying,

scheming which you

will never make amends.

So don’t pretend

Or try to defend

Your “Book of Love”

Has lost it’s bookends.

Written by Christina Sunrise on April 7,2011

poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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