misery privilege stale
it is beyond stale
that non friendship
of ours
which ceased along
with my value
when i tossed away
my life of privilege
childhood
school
our youth
families
the connection meant
nothing to you
took a while to absorb
the misery and truth
of this reality
i wont pretend
it still does not rattle me sometimes
when i contemplate the ruthlessness
of the chattering classes
i did hear about your situation
broadcast on the news
it gave me no pleasure
i felt sorry for you
being the gossip centrepiece
of the ladies who lunch circle
knowing how much that life
means to you with its emphasis
on respectability and " doing well"
no more names to drop now
your address book
will be depleted
doors will slam shut
doubtless the reason
you have magically
discovered my telephone number again
after all these decades
sorry....too late
A few flashing lights in that one.
ReplyDeleteYou are supposed to be working...not reading poetry blogs !
ReplyDeleteWho? Me?
DeleteGosh! it certainly was a lot of unpleasant memories being played back. Hopefully things can be worked out!
ReplyDeleteHank
Some doors had best stay closed.
ReplyDeleteYes !
DeleteThe sudden appearance of an old friend can be very suspicious. You have to look at your fingers to see if their are still burn marks!
ReplyDeletetime is different for each of us...that is a mistery ...
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely...true friends don't come running when everyone else runs out..
ReplyDelete