A Thanksgiving Poem

Once upon a time in a land far away,
There was a boy who was hanging out, on Thanksgiving Day.

He lived there now, he had left long ago,
Leaving behind someone special , someone he used to know.

She was a beautiful girl, loving and bright,
She believed he was, the love of her life.

He had left her behind, to find his rightful treasures,
But she missed him so much, and their nights of pleasure.

She thought he would come back, and love her once more,
They tried to have phone sex, themselves they would explore.

He said he would send for her, to come for a stay,
She waited excitedly, to see her lover and the time they would play.

Months passed on, and so came the cold weather,
She asked "when baby, when?", but they did not get together.

His calls became less, his job so demanding,
She tried to call less, trying to be understanding.

And though she didn't call him, he was on her mind all day and all night,
Alone at night in the bed they had shared, and at the first break of light.

She did not want to bother him, she wanted him to call her more,
He was too busy to deal with this, he wanted her to be like before.

But this was impossible because she was not having sex,
She was not calmed by his love, her hormones perplexed.

She lost her calmness, her faith, when she lost his fuck,
Masturbation did not help this, it was no luck.

He said he was "just busy", "are you with someone", she said,
He said "no" he was not, but she could not get the thought from her head.

So one fine Thursday, a holiday wish was sent out,
She tried to call him right back, he must be still about.

It rang and rang and to the messages she was sent,
She spoke lovingly and cheerfully, full of good intent.

She thought he would call her back, it was a holiday after all,
The morning hours passed, but there was no call.

She began to drink some vodka, to try and stay calm,
One drink became two, she held the phone in her palm.

"Please call", she thought, she needed to hear his voice,
More hours passed, she knew she had no choice.

She went to the bar because she had ran out of booze,
But nothing could seem to cure, her love sick blues.

And during this time, while she was searching for her smile,
Something happened to her, and apparently she got hostile.

After stumbling home, with a small fall along the way,
She finally sat down, to look at her phone and pray.

That he had called, something, anything, didn't he remember?
He had said she would see him again, at the end of December.

The morning came and as she slowly awoke,
She looked at her phone again, as she had a smoke.

"Oh gosh" a call from him, but there was no message,
"Oh fuck" it was out going, with this puzzle she wrestled.

She had no memory of the call, not any of it at all,
Maybe she did not say anything, maybe later she would have some recall.

But the day came and went, and she waited to hear,
To know what she had done, regret consumed her as she waited in fear.

The following day, the boy from far far away,
Sent messages written in text, and to her dismay,

She had said something, something very bad,
He blasted her with messages, very mean, with all he had.

She tried to explain, apologize, but she had no recollection,
He would not take her calls, severing their connection.

The moral of the story is not one but two,
One as old as time, but both are tried and true.

That a girl needs sex to be loving, calm, and happy,
And when drunk don't use your phone, or things may end very crappy.