Coffee, carrots, and chords.

A couple things.

I really do care, and you, on the other hand, clearly do not.

I was there for you, for that moment, and you were there for you too.

You’re cute.

With your pride and your glory and your beauty and your story that I listen to so eagerly, but every time you talk to me it’s so that I can be your sounding board, and so I am, and thank the Lord, that I am here for you, because you are not…there.

I care.

You, you pick up your phone, like you are alone, and you walk right out, no whisper or shout, just gone.

Gone.

I hold on to your song.

I should let go, and you really should know, that I am more than a ear for your voice, but it’s all my choice, and I listen.

I just listen and wish I could glisten in your shine, that some light would be mine, but all is yours and there’s no time for me.

So I should move on, put my voice in my song, and maybe find someone who will listen…and sing along.

Someday.

-cdukulele

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Filed under All Poetry

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