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I’m torn.
Four and a half weeks it has been
I really don’t think I should call
She will just be busy again.
My interest in her seems to fall.
A bird is circling in the sky.
But a vulture, it is not.
‘Tis a robin way up high,
Ready to swoop on my spot.
Absence makes the heart grow fond,
But now I know that’s a lie.
We’re apart, there is no bond.
These torn thoughts I can’t deny.
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Aside from my great plans to become the future dictator of the moon, I have little interest in political discussions.
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