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
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