Worth - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Worth

Apparently, all I was worth was
One phone call in the last
I don’t know how many years.
You told me how important I was.

Words come and go, floating by in
Teeming or sparse configurations.
Alluding, promising, seducing,
Unconvincing me.

Faded, creased picture in my mind.
I try to recall what you look like;
A mocking expression, a snide smile,
My worth rushes into focus.


 
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Poetry by Guy Farmer