One sentence, she smiles,
Like yesterday, she lights up the sky,
But today I forgot her birthday, and heaven is falling on my head,
Made out with the couch tonite, and from the looks of things am soon marrying it,
No more breakfast in bed, just praying I'll soon get laid,
Gone are the days when you were kissed goodnite, replaced by cold leftovers - ouch,
And as I add one more line to this poem, from the comfort of my sofaset,
A Sweet angelic voice whispers 'Honey come to bed', I smile
n willingly follow my angel in the flesh back to paradise,
Till I realise that I forgot our anniversary, n quietly slip out of bed back to the wilderness - making out with the couch while eating cold leftovers
