Stolen

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It won't be the first time that I'm going to lose out to her

        that red-haired vixen

With the rockin body and loose standards

        throwing herself at any boy she deems cute


 

Fixating on the only one who told her goodbye

        and right when he was in my grasp,

She pulled him back in

        back into that game of hers


 

But he did go willingly back

        because she “deserves a second chance”

I guess so. But now you'll never know

        know how good I am.


 

I'm better than those manipulative games of hers

        she's toying with emotions as she pleases

Because people are just her pawns, in a game of her own making

        and how good she is at that game.


 

First my brother, now you too she claims as her own.

        While the one who sits on the side, being the best person she can

Is thrown casually away,

        because who gives the good girl a second thought?

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community

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