friday, june 5th

“but i am so alone” 
well excuse me if i do not feel sympathy
you speak of isolation, spit tales of indignation 
i do not feel sorry for you. 
preaching from your high horse, 
you words catch as they pass the long term tenant which resides between your lips
that silver spoon will never rust
how dare you speak of hardship
while I stole to survive you ate from a gilded bowl

you see no discomfort in the prison that is financial comfort, 
but what good is money when you feel “so alone”? 
your silver spoon will still shine, 
but your wealth dwindles in comparison to mine. 
the friends I have they keep the demons away and keep me safe 
maybe one day you will learn that you cannot buy love
so continue to cry out tales of your sequestered soul 
but remember i told you, 
kindness makes you whole.