The way she puts up with his morning breath
The way he puts up with her indecisions
And when they swore that they would part at death
Did they consider bodily emissions
The way his underwear stays on the floor
The way her voice is just a bit too shrill
The way Saturday nights became a bore
And then he asks her if she loves him still
The way she rolls her eyes, screws up her mouth
And moves a little closer on the couch
I’d like to thank Christy Birmingham for challenging me in the Love in 10 Sentences challenge. I honestly thought I’d never write a poem about love.
Glorious Results Of A Misspent Youth 