Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #513
You Meant To Foot My Bill by Belinda Roddie You meant to foot my bill at the café and leave me white roses at your hotel, but you had not received your monthly pay, and the bellhop told you to go to Hell. You wanted to call me, but you chose not to, since you remembered I'd get anxious while on the phone. In fact, all that you got for me was a cheap bottle of rum - Guess you failed at being the romantic type. Honestly, people say that you're a creep for pursuing me; "Don't believe the 'hype,' you say. "Real creeps watch you while you sleep, and don't take no for an answer." But I said no a million times: Fuck off and die.
