The Book Club the cautious cavalier

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He would not go,
She would not stay,
She said goodbye,
He cursed her name.
No late phone calls,
Just unsaid thoughts,
One thought too much,
The other, did not think at all.
Alone at the top of the stairs,
Counting the minutes until,
The ever cautious cavalier,
Tiptoes his way into view,
Clutching his sword made of foam.
He would not go,
She would not stay,
She said goodbye,
He cursed her name.
No late phone calls,
Just unsaid thoughts,
One thought too much,
The other, did not think at all.
The ear on the glass on the wall,
Is counting the minutes until,
The ever cautious cavalier,
Tiptoes his way into view,
Clutching his sword made of foam.
Our hero waits outside the door,
Desperately trying to clear his throat,
And then his mind.
Why does it always have to end?
To be continued once again,
Until next time.

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