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Click hereFuck this shit.
I'm done.
You're making me tired.
You're no longer fun.
I put up with your mess.
Even hid the truth.
From your wife, family
Although she knew.
That we were lying,
Full of deceit.
Turned a blind eye,
When behind her back you creeped.
Man, I had your back.
Stood strong and tall.
For you, my friend,
I'd give my all.
So now, you say
That we are not cool.
Fuck this, man.
To me, you're old news.
As a poem this could use some work. As a story, it sucks. But I suppose poetry is cathartic, especially for those who've suffered in life.