hello, sweet friend
it’s me, the maniac, alone again…
it’s desperation luring me up your driveway
it’s cold nights staring at the dog
biting fleas that are biting him
it’s winter’s mean temperament
rubbing me the wrong way
it’s people made of endless yards of fashionable yarn
ignoring me as they seek warmth from the wind
it’s twenty phony Santas downtown
each with a hand in my pocket
knowing i’m a sucker with a pocketful of change
it’s having no car
not knowing the bus schedules
not having cab fare
not having courage enough to bike around town
not within walking distance of anyplace i’d like to be
or anyone i’d care to see
it’s a damned shame, being crippled by my own apathy
and now, as i try to run to you, i fall flat on my crazy ass
because too much time has passed
but i thank you
for not laughing
at the fallen heroine
i only wish you had told me before i left you
that nobody else thought i was a star
i wish you had told me
how lonely life is at the bottom
copyright 1978 rhonda lee richoux (a poem to someone who loved me once)
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