Love?

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You're not patient, you're not kind
You get wound up the slightest thing.
Your tongue is sharp, your words are harsh
You envy others, like to boast,
You put us down, you're far too proud.
You only think what's good for you.
You lose your rag the slightest thing
And won't forget if you've been wronged.
You laugh aloud at evil things.
And love to share such wicked lies.
Expose the weak, betray our trust,
Destroy all hope and bring us down.
And yet you like to speak of love
and think to be a valentine?

Third Verse: More Poems from Andrew GreenWhere stories live. Discover now