– from my lips –

Aren’t I always the listener?

The observer?

The psychiatrist to my peers?

Aren’t I the shoulder to cry on?

The brother to lean on? 

The companion to bitch at about life?

At this point, I don’t mind,

I don’t mind,

no, I don’t mind at all.

At this point,

I just wish the favor would be returned,

the favor of being listened to.  

 

 

D.J. Whisenant

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