It’s Not You, It’s Me

I was always there for you.  I must have become a convenience.

I always respected your ideas.  I must have appeared uneducated.

I was concerned for you.  I must have been horribly insensitive.

I never received any phone calls.  I must have a bad phone carrier.

I gave up trying.  I must be to blame.

It’s not you, it’s me.  Or is it?

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By Kris Heaton Posted in Poetry