I am not just a shoulder to cry on. I am a person with things to do. |
"Don't Cry on my Shoulder" Sometimes I feel like a used up tissuse, the kind you get in travel packages Because all day I get so used, and informed of boyfriends and other happenings I really have a caring heart, it's full of sympathy and compassion But my friends tear me apart, when they don't care about my feelings in return I listen to them rant, I listen to them rave, I listen as I agonize over my own life and things-to-do-today I have my own set of problems, and my own work cut out for me To be honest, I write this poem just so I can feel some comforting-- words of my own I am concerned about my "friends" but they don't care about me While I was at wits end preparing for a new addition, aka a baby They bugged me about crushes, about their silly depression, They called me late a night, saying "How I need a man!" I sighed and my tongue I'd bite, if I even tried to explain how I get so mad, they wouldn't understand They put me down and curse me, in everything I do They always put their foot in their mouth And I am not sure if it's any use I have a caring heart, really I have compassion But to help these friends feel sorry for themselves, is not my ambition My shoulder you cry on, is getting rather weak I can't take another sob story Not. Another. Peep. Once in awhile, please, ask how I am doing, I am not doing so well I'm no longer faking a smile, or going to let you drag me where you fell. I've got better things to do. |