Dear Mister Softee,
Your song no longer calls me. Though you play it on repeat, it doesn't move my feet. Once unlike no other, it goes in one ear and out the other. Pavlov's pooch for 7 dog years.........on the loose, heard the tune - I was all ears. Ran blocks for a cherry bonnet. Your song was like a sweet sonnet.
Then the scale said two-fitty. Your little ditty wasn't quite as pretty. Wouldn't run for you, wouldn't run for nuthin. Like a Thanksgiving turkey, extra stuffin. I'd still see you around the way. But it wasn't the same, I had nuthin ta say. For years and years, I didn't know how to quit you. Brokeback Softee, thought I'd always be witchu.
But then you did a number on my waistline. Had to keep my distance - not even Face Time. I see you on the rebound, talkin to the next man. I'm happy for you - nah, I really am. Me? I'm takin it slow........down to 220 with 10 more to go.
It'll always be our song - I thought you should know. But keep it movin, Mister, like an MCs flow. You know me - I'm not one to burn a bridge. But I'm over you, Softee.
“I Like To Play With Toys” Productions®