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A Wairnin Tae the Ayeweys Aff an On

by Sara Clark

It’s awfy dreich tae leeve
Wi a man ye divna luve.
The haurd pairt is deekin it,

No likin the guy
Ye bide wi,
No kennin why,

Wirrit ye micht come aff rude
Ye stairt tae cleck up excuises,
(PMT / bad muid)

If yer list o raisons tae stey
Has “weans,” or “weddin” in it,
Or the wirds “thi boy micht chynge”

Get the hell oot.
If ye ken deep doun
He’s no whit yer aboot,

Or the sicht o him eatin,
Smilin or watchin the TV
Maks ye want tae scream

It’s time tae leave.
If he niver seems
To unnerstaund whit ye mean,

An ye ayeweys imagine
Bein wi anither man
Or like tae daunder doon

The stair at midnicht,
Fer a skaur o peace,
It means he isnae richt.

You willnae believe this,
But, efter the tears
An the stooshies,

He’ll aw at ance appear
Relieved. Ye see ma dear,
He doesnae luve you either.

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