deepundergroundpoetry.com
I do, I don't
I do still love
the father of my child
when he was gentle
his moods were so mild
we had some laughs
we had some fun
I remember the night
we made our son
I do still love
the man I met
who he became
I'd rather forget
we were once happy
he was my sweet Chris
his cuddly strong arms
I do sometimes miss
I don't still love
the disgusting fat dickhead
forcing himself on me
and left me crying in bed
I don't still love
the way he made me feel
for my heart and soul
in which he did steal
the father of my child
when he was gentle
his moods were so mild
we had some laughs
we had some fun
I remember the night
we made our son
I do still love
the man I met
who he became
I'd rather forget
we were once happy
he was my sweet Chris
his cuddly strong arms
I do sometimes miss
I don't still love
the disgusting fat dickhead
forcing himself on me
and left me crying in bed
I don't still love
the way he made me feel
for my heart and soul
in which he did steal
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