A really, really mean poem.

You call me beautiful, is that all you care about?

You say I’m intelligent, but you don’t really care

Why should you? Infuriating. It’s more than I can bare

You give me compliments that don’t really turn out

Somehow I don’t see how seeing me makes you doubt

After all, you are walking on a thin line, on air

You write to me, waiting forever like a giant panda bear

For the right road, you might just want to reroute  

Now carefully, harmlessly vow courtesy and how

Ever now endeavor to bow, be clever

With such a line, myth touches the love pine

Beauty is much adored, duty explored nonesuch

However willing never fulfilling whomsoever filling

Whatever needs reminding, a favor bleeds whining.

j.h.