Loved
I love you not because you abuse
but because you’re loving sometimes.
I don’t love the way you choose
to continue with your crimes.
I don’t like how you tie me down
in bed but yet I really do.
I don’t like how you wear the crown
of a king, figuratively, and think it’s true.
You think you own me and I must
do what you say or face the heat.
From picking up every speck of dust
to perfectly cooking your potatoes and meat.
I love you but I can’t put up at all
with your ever-increasing demanding pace
where you’re always ready to call
me. Even when I’m not there, you’re in my face.
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