Miss Stake

Mon, 10/30/2017 - 19:23 -- Nicus

you drive a stake into the ground.
Rather sturdy, pretty solid
seems to work out all around
Feels nearly flawless
But now it's done,
the stake is removed
Like a smoking gun
It leaves a very deep wound
In soil that’s never been turned
Before a stake is driven into it
Try to fill the hole it burned
With the things that’ll never fit
Nothing but thy lovely stake
Can perfectly fill the rip
That she chose to create
But why should I feel toyed?
I don't have feelings, right?
Because I’m just a fuck boy
Yeah. That really bites.

This poem is about: 
Me

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