But Not Your Content

But Not Your Content

I find I want to say so much I'll say little
because so many words have meant just spittle.
I do appreciate your consciousness stream
but it does not attempt to share any dream.
An ambition or two or a plan does not substitute
for the feelings heart-rent principles constitute.

Thank you for your effort but not your content.
I had hoped our history to you more meaning lent.
At least I know you know on myself I am hard,
and if you're my friend deal you the same card.

I want philosophy, and gossip, self awareness...
Life is short and we all need to confess.

Whether I'm tired or my handwriting is poor
from me with words you I would not so bore.
What the brother said, not if you took friends,
and what they thought would make amends.

What sales taught you, not what was the hour
would lend thinking to your personal power.

Or what you thought I'd have probably done
if I'd gotten your wedding invitation would be fun.
(You never told me, nor even mentioned it!
73 not allowed... or think I would be unfit?)

Despite the critical tone of this little rhyme,
I cherish your heart much more than your time.
If someone's my friend it's a quality relation.
Life is too short for companionship, mere sensation.

I know you are capable of spiritual caring
but to prove it, with honesty you must be daring.
I'm afraid you'll find it too hard to keep trying,
but I have thousands of acquaintances... not worth crying.
Or will we recover a more worthwhile connection?
You have the right to also give me correction.

I do still love you.

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