Alone again.
Or is it alone,
still.
I know I should be independent,
and yet
I honestly
don’t want to be
totally.
We all have busy lives,
and we all need to respect
and give space
to others
we care for
and about.
Yes, and,
I guess I need
to learn how
to do that.
The reality is
I haven’t yet.
I expect those
I care about
to care about
the same things
I care about;
to be interested
in the same things
I’m interested in,
even if the timing
is not right.
I suppose
that’s selfish
of me.
I just had
different expectations.
And now I have to learn
to deal
with those dashed dreams
and expectations.
The expectations
that everything we did
or everything that one of us
wanted to do
would be
something that
we both wanted
to do.
But that’s not
the way it is.
The real bet is
that there’s just
not always the interest.
That we don’t
always want to walk
that yellow brick road
dressed like Buddy Holly.
(Oooh, oooh!)
I didn’t have time
before
to turn and
face the strange.
But now,
with these ch ch ch changes
I’m goin’ through,
even though things are
gonna get done,
even though there will always be
someone like her
even though the thrift shop trips
may be more efficient,
I don’t want
blue to be my color.
Cyrano Writer: Musings of a Revolutionary Romantic Poet 
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