Classic Poem

I thought when he hadn't been there for two or three days—
When he walks in the door I'll really bawl him out!
He'll come over to me, full of excuses,
Spluttering, making no sense, stuttering;
The slippery devil will try to worm out of it, how can anyone trap him!
I can't describe how I long for him to ask for my favors;
But I'll put him out of mind, and when I've got over it, I'll tell him we're through.
If we're through, we're through, but even if he's sorry I won't be able to tell whether he really means it.
But then he boldly came up and asked me how I'd been,
And all I could do was smile back, keep in my temper for fear he'd get angry,
So when he leaves and doesn't come back again for a couple of days, I'll be looking for someone to go and hunt him up.