poetry

Like​ Someone Owes Me..

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Heard it several times,
though,
like,
the annoying buzz
of a Bumblebee overhead.
Clumsily leading my deaf ears,
into the opportune,
honey
of my words instead .
Never distractingly
pointing me out,
yet certainly,
directed at me.
To get a reaction,
as I smugly,
give no satisfaction
holding my peace,
but not my passion
smiling as the Cheshire cat,
given a chance to express​,
my alphabeticalized facts.
I act entitled hmm,
like the world owes me something.
Well in all truth,
I have the proof,
not the world maybe,
but many owe me,
are indebted by my life’s root,
the twist and turns, that came
without sympathy
and let’s just say it’s overdue.
Like someone owes me..
My virtue,
lost- too never return again,
where as justice tripped,
despite my turning the other cheek,
allowed them to win, in the end.
Apologies that have never met my ears,
without ever being spoken,
not even by a whisper,
I couldn’t​ hear.
Like someone owes me something? After the false accusations, defamation,
authoritative persuasion,
on my life’s giant misguided steps.
The reasonable amount of piled chips on my shoulder,
the character assassination’s that caused ten times, that of bailed out, bank’s debt.
A habitual,
priceless inflammation suffered,
from the shaming of my name, as credit of my success, changed or went unnamed.
Took for granted,
taken on a ride,
banana in the tail pipe,
all due from jobs inside,
by family, friends,
no raise or perks,
time lapsing,
lacking love,
turned too pure volunteer work.
Never by an enemy,
impossible too get as close,
as I’ve took on bets,
accepted family plans,
too settle their debt, with an apology’s hope.
And you know what?
They still owe me.
Poetry By Tamara Dorsey- Moore
Thinker on the Loose
Copyright © 2017

 

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