The Ex-Girlfriend Convention

We sit alone in an undecorated room pondering what we've done.

Bringing old flames together: a not so grand idea. 

Mad scientists creating love's bomb.

Knowing its a bad idea, but thinking of all the the fun.

Bring past mommies and boos together, the ex-girlfriend convention.

No one makes it through the door before the trash talking begins.

Bragging rights thrown back and forth, "Girl I made him a man."

Then the tearing of dresses, shouts and rants, accessories flung in the air.

Thinking that's weird: all guests all with same dress, same hair.

But all with their unique flair.

We sit in the undecorated room, debating what should be done.

We are the hosts, we invited them to this ex-girlfriend convention.

We enter the hall and to our dismay, countless hands on hips.

Lips turned up in anger, hair flung everywhere.

Did you invite this bitch?