Fantastic poem Prad!
This is one I saw in my local newspaper about 10 years ago and it has stuck with me since. Damned if I can remember who wrote it though. Anyone able to help?
He's bored of her,
She tires him deep inside,
Though he cannot end it now,
It would end her he knows.
After another (boring) night,
In another (boring) embrace,
She turns to him and says,
'I'm bored'.