A War of Roses

A War of Roses 

You've changed the rules of the game,

But I still love you, you crazy dame.

I'll have to dig in a little more

If I again hope to share the dance floor.

You appeared to hate me on this day,

But not every one has appeared as gray,

For as long as there is a shred of love,

Heaven will remain up above.

Lovers quarrel,

And sometimes in a frenzy, they twirl

Their mad passions, all over Hell and back.

With wits so keen

And knives just as sharp and clean,

It's never pretty to watch a war of roses.

I said I'm sorry,

But you are no softy,

I can't seem to get through to you.

I offer to buy dinner,

Saying, "That sounds like a winner,"

But you shrug your shoulders,

Claiming, "Pithy words don't mean a thing."

And we're just two lovers coming unglued

Despite the fact we have tattooed

Our names and likenesses on each other's backs.

I could give you the world's supply of money

And show you why we're as sweet as honey,

But it's a war of roses, 

And their thorns are bleeding us dry.

I fear the worst if things don't change,

For life would cease and I wouldn't have the range

Nor the comfort or desire to wake up in the morn.

I've begged and begged for a reprieve,

And now I'm reduced to simply grieve:

Redundant, mentally impotent, sans a care.