Being somewhat selective
Sensitive to being rejected.
Protective of the emotions
Carried in the baggage of my word trains
Too proud to beg to be honored
with even a brief hello or goodbye
Why would i/should i bother
If I am not welcome here
Then i guess i‘ll digress to no longer ponder
If there’s still life …near
And go way back over yonder
Stop by a bar, and buy myself a few brews
No longer to be plagued
with who’s who and what’s what…
And be done with the wordplay
As if i can’t get it up… and have had enough
In this atmosphere… no longer amused
Talking to myself… once again
feeling kinda bluesy
C2

