I'm walking out.
I'm closing doors.
I'm not going to play
your game tonight.
I can see you now
clearly. Open eyes
at last. All your gold
chipped, flaked, and pyrite.
You're just a faded
photocopy, a
thing tarnished, broken,
a stereotype.
You smirk as you watch,
pretending concern
but, ah, you don't quite
bother hiding that knife.
And you want to say
I've not been patient.
Grumble and sulk that
I haven't been kind.
But if we're honest
You've feasted and grown,
taken advantage
And left me the rinds.
So ready yourself
because changes are
sometimes unsettling
storms that crash right through.
Why don't we phrase it
this way (politely)
Inversion of that
Well-Known Golden Rule
You need not expect
anything from me
that I have not learned,
wasn't taught by you.
No comments:
Post a Comment
And then you said.....