Anyone But Her

I have an extra ticket to the show.
It needs a senior user, female please.
My oldest friend’s the one I’d choose to go,
except of late she’s grown obnoxious. She’s
been acting harsh, entitled, to degrees
offensive and vexatious. I’d prefer
to want to ask, and then the impulse flees.
I’d rather go with anyone but her.


This entry was posted in Aging, Love, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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