Time for a
change
I know
longer go where I'm not wanted. for I know I'm not going to be treated the way
I want to be treated.
I don't
speak to those that don't want to be spoken to. With rudeness is not how I want
to be greeted.
My most
intimate thoughts are no longer shared. Some thoughts I choose to keep to
myself.
Not far
from ones ear, that chooses to hear, recorded and kept on my favorite shelf.
I no
longer send poetic love letters. The last I received back stamped return to
sender.
I spent
almost my last breath, fighting almost to the death, but I can no longer be our
loves defender.
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