Perhaps the greatest f.u. poem I’ve ever read. I love it, Thanks Dotty!
Up your arse stick your flowery words
and thorny red roses
in a bunch, up your bum.
I’m no longer your wife, your wench,
your skivvy, your drudge;
twenty three years thrown aside,
cast away – for what?
Some dirty young slut.
Your ego, your death-fear,
it’s all about you
YOU YOU YOU
you middle-aged twat;
mourning the grey, the droop, the sag,
and those fucking great bags round your eyes –
they cannot lie.
Plead a little more, bastard.
Listening? Me? Not a chance,
not a hope in the belly of Hell.
Crawl, you creep,
beg, whimper, whine,
weep me your vows, your promises –
I’ve heard it all before, remember.
Why are you here again,
howling your sorrys?
Didn’t you hear me the first fifteen times?
Get it through your head –
you left me, you lost me,
you shagged us stone dead.
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