Get Out

I love the poems. the rhymes

I love the wine, the wind chimes

And the laughter and the nostalgia

But excuse me,get out.

You have the nerves, the balls

You inundate me with words, calls

and your cajoling and coaxing

But excuse me,get out.

You're good but you know it

You're selfish and show it

You're reasonably weak, considerably meek

So excuse me, get out.