She hoped the
new guy she’d just met,
Was not tangled
up in that relationship net,
Butterflies
in her navel had started to spin.
But she
knew any future was at the price of a sin.
A few
months later they fell apart,
And her
hopes rose, as they did at the start.
But when
you’re part of the gang, one of the crew,
The last
thing you do is mess that up and screw.
She’d
become the little sister who could keep up with the drink,
Rough
laughs and a dirty joke, all that still dressed in pink,
They’d all banter,
dance, drink, talk and party some more.
Only for him
to disappear with another whore.
That’s all
fine and good – why wouldn't it be?
She’s just
falling for him – can you really not see?
Don’t
touch, speak, hug, or look at her that way,
Your
brotherly love is killing her day, after day.
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