Who says you could do this

Love, lust, cheat, use.

What am I but a fresh pick,

That you could never squander if she knew.

Regardless, thoughts escaped her mind,

wandering through the lies,

Being cut deep by your slick tongue.

Your heart made of the stuff for roads,

secreted with the daily crap that you spindle

into your web of deceit.

You are good at this,

being one and then another,

Who could not but wonder why he could have another lover?

Where is man inside of men?

The missing of an ability to see yourself,

puts you in a foothold. 

You have failed her.

Who else but never failed her,

the one that truly loved her,

grew her into a captivation.