THE end of love, gone with the wind,
not coming back, and if it does, its to
get the rest of her stuff, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
the end of love, from passion to ice,
the bottle empty, the wine poured out,
the music dead, gone, the only thing
talking is the clock, tic, tic, and tic,
ding dong, this love is dead, , , , this
love is dead, , , this love is dead.

DAVID GERARDINO

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ding-dong-this-love-is-dead/