A Shortage of Love

Me with my

shortness of breath

and you with your

short temper.

We fall

short of what we used to have.

It used to be so sweet,

like strawberry

shortcake.

But lately, I’ve been receiving the

short end of the stick.

I play

shortstop waiting for a play

that won’t happen.

I never wanted to be your

shortie or a

shortcut to you.

So long story

short,

take a long walk off a short pier.

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