He sits in a chair
he sits straight and tall
he is pale and fair
not that it matters at all.
She stands behind him
and stares with such pride
he belongs to just her
or so she thinks, with eyes wide.
She sees no betrayal
recognizes no lies
believes all that he says
for that reason alone, he flies
from one to the next
from lady to lady
loving and leaving them all
empty, still waiting.
"A player of the heart"
he is called by many
but few understand him
none even, if any.
How much longer
can he still decieve
the one that he "loves"
before he recieves
a stare not of pride
but of extreme pain
by hurting this girl
he had nothing to gain.

-dedicated to my best gurlie friend. She will read this when her bf cheats on her...again-