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Mud Pies

When we were little,
I’d bake you mud pies;
Warm and cakey from the sun,
Served with stones,
And a few blades of grass.
Your favorite dessert when we played house.

We were so whimsical,
But now so cynical.
Our eyes were alive,
But now so contrived.
You swept me off of my feet,
But now I’m in disbelief,
That all of our lust,
Has now turned to dust.

We would see each other
Always in the hallways,
By our lockers while in school.
We’d do our homework
Together for hours,
Studying, and talking over food.

We were so whimsical,
But now so cynical.
Those eyes were alive,
But now so contrived.
You swept me off of my feet,
But now I’m in disbelief,
That all of our lust,
Has turned to dust.

One night you kissed me,
And I could hardly sleep.
We held hands and danced,
Like two love birds.
From then on we dated,
For years and years, inseparable.

You were so whimsical,
But now so cynical.
Those eyes were alive,
But now so contrived.
You swept me off of my feet,
But now I’m in disbelief,
That all of our lust,
Has turned to dust.

My love was too much,
And yours not enough.
I suffocated you,
No room to breathe.
Playing house was much easier
Than actually living it;
Mud pies nicer
Than responsibilities.

You were so whimsical,
But now so cynical.
Those eyes were alive,
But now so contrived.
You swept me off of my feet,
But now I’m in disbelief,
That all of our lust,
Has finally turned to dust.





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