The Bride To Be

Dated for a minute,
But my heart just wasn't in it,
So I did the disappearing act I'm so proficient in.
She calls me up, she's to be married,
With some Tom or Dick or Harry,
But first she needs to meet me for a final night of sin.

At first, of course, I hesitate,
(Don't wanna eat from another man's plate),
But I forgot how good she is at rhetoric.
So a time and place was set,
For us to lose our etiquette,
But when we meet it hits me like a brick.

Have I lost my sense of pride?
Am I to share another's bride?
Have I turned into all I find disgusting?
Am I just a final fling?
An arbitrary plaything,
You throw away once you've finished lusting?

"You could been the one", she said,
"Take off your clothes, let's go to bed",
But I couldn't go through with what I shouldn't have started.
"Stop looking so stigmatic,
"You always were melodramatic,
"And besides, since when did you become so warmhearted?

"It's something I need off my chest,
"And since it's what we both do best,
"I figure that you owe me because of how you walked away.
"You know, you could have been the one,
"But that was then, what's done is done,
"How else could I have met my fiance'?"

I got up and I started dressing,
Deafened by what she was confessing,
What's wrong is wrong and that's as plain as fact.
"Why am I so unsurprised?
"I'm sure that you feel martyrized,
"You know, backbone was what you always lacked.

"You're as useless as a shriveled dick!
"Get out of here! You make me sick!
"Is this how you repay a compliment?"
I turned away, not looking back,
And did my disappearing act,
Still, I wonder just how the wedding went...