Lexington

I do not have a plethora
Of friends on whom I count for a
Sit down and chat without a care,
A drink in hand, an overstuffed chair.
But you can sully the event
With suspicion and misrepresent,
Like smearing feces all around
The painting. Now it’s yellowish brown.

You say you will not move because
Of friends you have, and yet I was
Attempting to make good on my
Two friends. But you made me the bad guy,
In part because one friend is a girl,
But even about Mark you had to hurl
Invective, when I said I planned
A visit, forcing me to take a firm stand.