Denied

What goes around, comes around That's what she said to me Her voice made a different sound I'm getting old, she plea'd I'll agree to a significant gap Dividing our encounters But I, the connecting strap And she, the Debbie downer Disappointment rattled the phone My soul, doused in shame again No one is tossing a bone Yet I reside inside the pen She could sense my frustration As my patience grew tired Hopeless was restoration It's not how she was wired I was hesitant to say goodbye But relieved to release the tension I let out a defeated sigh Neither of us would win