Here stands little old me in the city with my homemade skirt and a dollars worth of a shirt Looking back at you in your appartment with your Tommy Hilfiger cap and your Calvin Klein boxer briefs that you wanted so bad that you had to have that I bought for you that cost me a fortune But it's not about that. If only it were that simple, I'd just start shopping at the GAP or something. It's not about that. It's about you and that girl they called my friend at that party I had just left with your kiss still fresh on my lips. And your fingers, when not enclosed in mine, were rolling a joint or holding a beer; maybe even changing a lightbulb over your secret garden Of course it was bad, and it made me sad But it's not about that, I wish it were that cause I'd travel the world disposing of every dirty needle, every drug. Maybe I'd even leave you a couple of beers. Not about that though. It's about you, months after the best friend factor With the girl at the video store You, probably looking to get a free porno Her, just looking to score Well, someone tell him what he's won: A video store clerk eating for two Two, plus you, that's three, minus me, sounds like the right equation It just doesn't add up to anything, though besides you, with your new occupation of being the daddy of that poor baby, who will have no future because of your mistakes And me, of course feeling sorry for your affspring, but not as sorry as I feel for myself, left with nothing else than a million Ani D. CD's. cause she's the only one with sympathy for me. But it's not about pity, because I sure as hell know how to say I'm fine. It's not about that.
Reason for writing:
This poem has nothing to do with me. I told it kind of in my sister's perspective, although it's not that accurate of exactly what happened. I know it still kills her inside, but it's to let her know, I'm there, and I understand what she's going through.Birth sign: Gemini
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