Becca has a way with words,
that drives me into madness.
Everything that Becca says,
borders on the sadness.
I do not think she gives a thought,
be her right or wrong.
All the weakness that is bought,
is traded in for strong.
Becca will,
but Becca don't.
Becca can,
but Becca wont.
Becca feels in funny ways,
to disagree with what I say.
Becca's left,
but Becca stays,
a shadow on my soul.
Becca does but always acts,
as if she doesn't know.
saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/becca-2/
