Listening, not.

.

You talk, you talk and talk, always, never-ending,

I sit there and listen, at least I’m pretending,

In my heart and my mind, though, secretly hoping

That one day, while still young, up you will be shutting.

I feel interested, I do, I’m just hurting,

Too much information, difficulty coping…

So I just nod my head, from my own mind seeping,

Praying hard for my bed, just want to be sleeping…

.

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