The rush of a fight,
being hit, competing for
a considered right,
of men with women
that just didn't add up.
And that is the problem,
the frustration in
the fraction; you over me
in an algebraic equation.
When she equals X,
held close to your heart
and then taken away
by a substitute you.
Like a candle that burnt out,
cinnamon scents, now faded,
and the shadows, now jaded,
us at the cost of a wick.
_______________________
I wrote a second ending, that sticks with the algebra thing.
__________________________
Our broken binomial,
in the end our product was nothing
and this day is a mere factor.
I am Y. He is Z.
X + Z equals Y-even-Try?
)
