Four times

She says it was love,

but not once, not twice,

she around me shove,

like throwing a dice.


Broke up with me again.

Switches her feelings on and off.

The third time I was feeling the pain,

once more I was feeling the scoff.


Then a poem she wrote,

dry and lace was my throat.

There is proof of love in this quote,

by myself I thought.


We were about to change our live,

over and above.

It gave me such a strive

when she talked about love!


I was utterly beguiled,

although my appeal was mute,

to bring up her child,

her daughter so cute.


Our kingdom,

a business to construct,

our elysium,

we wanted to conduct!


Than again, a sudden turn.

Break up number four!

Emotions painful and sore,

have shaken me down to the core.


In a relation a must,

is what she does not own,

is the issue of trust,

but doubt is grown.


This is what caused her grief.

Difficult to comprehend,

but disappointment I believe,

is where she descent.


Why her heart is broken,

Why her love has wend,

remain unspoken,

at the bitter end.


Boundless I would bow and beyond,

to her love, unconditionally I would bend,

to gain her love, to anew the bond!

… some broken hearts never mend.


Can one man have so much bad luck? – What the fuck!