You and I had a grand house,

Crafted from our dreams.

It had everything we wanted,

But it kept bursting at the seams.

I mended and patched until my hands bled,

Yet I smiled and told you 'we're ok it's not dead'.

One by one you removed all the bricks,

Until we lived in a shack made of broken sticks.

I wondered to myself why would you do this?

Why destroy something that once filled us with bliss?

Have you built another, way off somewhere,

Or do just like seeing me work, patching in despair?

A day finally came when all my tools were used up,

No more fixing could be done, it was time to give up.

Like I knew you would, you came with gas to finish your game,

And as a dutiful and kind lover, I smiled and brought the flame.