This is the poem when your heart keeps you in an unhealthy relationship. You never liked the way they made you feel, but you still give in. This is the poem where you decide to finally fight back, and finally say what you have to say and feel what you really feel.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue;
I can’t wait to get the hell over you.
Sometimes I wish I knew how much pain you caused me.
Sometimes I wish I never even met you.
Maybe for once I wouldn’t feel like a fool.
A fool for letting you in.
Only to weaken me.
But I shouldn’t have to push this pain aside,
and pretend you’re the best thing to happen to me.
I wish I told myself that earlier,
because as the years go on,
the easier it is for me to fall head over heels for you.
So why am I still doing this?
I tell you how I feel to your face,
but you don’t listen.
You just stand there and clap when I’m done speaking.
I have to explain everything to you,
but it only goes over your head,
and I’m still the idiot.
Everyone scoffs as I don’t even listen to myself.
Brainwashed by the infatuation rushing into the room.
I guess holding your hand
is no different from two glasses of pinot noir.
I don’t know why I still let you get to me,
and I guess that’s why you still break me down,
but manage to hold my heart in your hands.
My heart wants me to love you,
but I don’t think I know what I want
so I settle for good enough.
Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue,
I think I should find someone new.