Oh Christian Eric, thou poor fool./
Rox Lisa wants to make you drool,/
while I, Cy, sit and dream of her,/
Mine is but a dream deferred.
For she somehow has chosen you/
to stir your magic verbal stew./
While my attentions are ignored/
And get discarded out her door.
And that’s where I don’t understand/
how I, a kind, romantic man,/
can be cast off as a verbal suitor./
Are you that much younger and cuter?
If only I had half the chance/
As you to pursue her in romance!
I stuck out my foot and broke her arm.
I laughed ’til she cut her face.
I watched her play ’til a shoulder
blew harshly out of its place.
I held her, gently, down
as needles tapped her spine.
She looked at me, surprised,
and winced but didn’t whine.
I sat there and listened
as she poured out what was inside.
It was my shoulder she reached for
when she broke down and cried.
But none of those childhood pains can even start
To compare to the trust lost when I broke her tender heart.