Our eyes met across that crowded room,
Just beyond the bride and groom.
A wedding, I'd heard, the place to find a mate,
But I'd be happy with just a date.
"May I sit here?" He asked politely.
"Of course," I said, as he brushed my hand lightly.
He sat and I gazed into his eyes of blue,
Could I trust this guy? What's a girl to do?
So I thought, why not just give it a try,
"It's a lovely night for romance," I say with a sigh.
From there it was dinner, dancing, drives into the sun,
Then on Valentine's Day, a text, "Baby, I'm done."
"I can't say it wasn't great,
Can't say you weren't the best date,
But it's time for me to be moving on.
Thanks a lot, it was fun, but baby, I'm gone."
He thinks it's okay to break up this way?
I'd make sure he rues this Valentine's Day.
So I plotted and planned until it all came together,
Then one day in hot, muggy weather,
I wait and sweat in that stolen car.
I see him coming, the trunk is ajar,
"I just have some things that belong to you,
Here in the trunk, there's just a few."
Lid opened wide, he leans in to get the bags,
A hit on the head, his body sags.
Into the trunk, then to a swamp that I know,
The car sinks to the bottom so very slow.
Screams and pounding in a swamp so smelly,
I text him the words to that song by Andrea Bocelli.
'Time to Say Good-bye' but I retitled it,'Time to Die.'
A warning to all who text a Valentine's good-bye,
Stuck in a trunk, in a swamp, is a bad way to die.
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