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!

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