I get that you’re happy, your life is so fine
It’s rosy and bright and nice
Well mine’s not so perfect, yet you’re taken aback
When your greeting is met with ice
How can a man succeed in his craft
With two lovers across the way?
You snuggle and cuddle and murmur and bubble
Every. Fucking. Day.
Time and again when I’m trying to write
Glaring daggers? I glare spears.
Yet somehow I am the enemy
As I have been all these years
Your tranquil moments are my bane
There is no solace here

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