scraps...

She gets the rump roast, he your best steak
Hell that leaves me with one fucking ache
It started out grand, too exceptional for words
Now all I'm getting are scraps like the birds

You take time for your work and time for a nap
But you leave me feeling like one piece of crap
You tell me you'll call as soon as you're done
When you don't, I certainly don't feel like your hon

You're obsessed with much and most that you do
But for some fucking reason you don't have a clue
Serving filet mignon to the masses at hand
Tossing scraps my way that are actually quite bland

Making excuses you're good at cause I've heard so many
If your words were a fountain I'd toss you a penny
Could be a reason you're still just a single
With your priorities all whacked, it won't cause me to tingle

I see you here and there all around the place
But rarely do we come face-to-face
I guess you are just being stretched way too thin
Ain't none of this however, making me grin

Lying around like your bitch in heat
Lunging for scraps you toss at your feet
Perpetually I wait for my master's pats
Damn, now I know why you've only had cats

Getting up at night to take your piss
Would be a perfect time to make up for my diss
But instead you make your rounds and prance
Yet you dont give me one second glance

So available I've made myself just for you
But once again you've got no fucking clue
Maybe space is what you need to figure it out
Maybe some time will eliminate all of your doubt

You make me feel like I ask for so much
When all I really want is your silly touch
How secretly giddy that must make you feel
But hell I need more than just scraps, I'd like a meal


Copyright ©2007 Melinda A. Napoletano