Start to wonder about loyalty
when they make it clear
you\'re no longer a priority
When your distress meets their
resignation or
dead eyes or
closed doors
At some point, you have to be prepared
to stand alone
To accept the distance is too great to bridge
Communion, once a source of comfort, is no longer possible
Sometimes it\'s you, not them
But not for the reasons they ascribe
Sometimes you have mountains to climb
And they are muddling in the Everglades
Sometimes you have a rocket to board
And they are at the Earth\'s core
Sometimes it\'s them, not you
Sometimes, it\'s as luck would have it,
Sometimes it\'s all about perception
And in a lunatic, upside down
Topsy turvy way
You, unimpressive as you may seem,
are living a dream
They\'ve only dreamed of
And they are locked in a hum drum hell,
Small town, suburban deja vu
from which small minds
rarely escape