(not written for anyone in particular, really)

the gift you had to give
me
doesn't give me anymore
what it once did give to me
don't bother with the door

it's creaking and it's slow
the oils don't flow from your bottle
quite the way they used to
it's OK, the weary tool

I have inside my heart, it needs some rest
I'll fall behind
but I'll catch up soon, in my own time
and no, I won't mind

because I think you need someone
else to help oil the door
my heart isn't the one
that you need, no,
not anymore

go find who you'll
remember to
be chivalrous to again

the motivation from that
will help us
to still be friends....



copyright 2007 Rose Loya