by Nick Gisburne
I promise, when I can, I’ll take a look,
A glimpse, a glance, at everything you’ve done,
But all of it, the toil, the time you took,
With absolute indifference I shun.
It’s on my list of things I’ll never do.
The words are smoke, illusory, a lie.
Whatever guarantee I give to you,
I’ll never make the effort, never try.
Although I claim to care, to give a damn,
What matters most to you is mud to me.
Each reassurance, rotten, is a sham.
Excuses fly forever, fast and free.
Bewildered by the ways I weasel out,
You’re on my list, forgotten. Never doubt.
