Green
eyes
By Phillip Miller
It tears me up inside and grinds me down
The fact she’s hitched with that stupid old hack
Who rides a bike to work and acts the clown
And sings for his supper down at “Ye Old Smack”
I have the look’s, house, and bundles of cash.
Drive a smart red Porsche and own a large Gite,
and I impress with style and panache,
Rolex on my wrist, Prada on my feet.
He is short and has a pale complexion,
Puny against my body, tanned and strong.
He stands in the shadow of perfection
Happy because she sings only his song.
Then what does she see in him but not me?
Why! She loves him you fool, so plain to see?
Copyright Phillip Miller
Love is blind - doesn't he realise that? Good poem, Phil.
ReplyDeletePhil, you are turning into a romantic, I may even fall in love with "Mika", Nice poem
ReplyDeleteAh Bless im...
ReplyDeleteI loved the implication that all sh would want was looks, money, property. So what did she see in him? Well written