I sat Table set Her late for date She came Soup came Talk flamed Soup good Entree She said Problem lies in bed Main meal She reveals I’m heel Big deal Drinks round Table pound Curse slur From her For desert Her hurt Expressed curt Wants shirt Stands up Stamps out What’s all this about? I know I’m great Super man Super mate Get home Her stuff All gone Enough’s enough I call Mobile phone No answer She’s done Oh oh Really gone? This time I’m alone Misery me Don’t deserve This treatment What nerve!
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poetography.ink 
Oh no, the restaurant break up! That’s not fun!
Thank you for joining and writing to the prompt.
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I like how you have written this…like staccato beats. Just yesterday I had responded to a comment and said restaurants are places for breakups and makeups. This sort of complements my poem.
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You and I both walked into the same restaurant, but the stories and outcomes were quite different – as should be the case.
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I know that I should feel sad about a break-up poem, but you write it in such a way that I can’t help smile. It’s quirky and fun, the type of poetry I like best.
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I was trying to have a bit of fun at the expense of some men I see who stupidly take their loving partners for granted – so I am pleased to know it gave you a smile.
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I’m glad it wasn’t autobiographical!
Great rhythm! It works really well. 🙂
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