no message of thanks
like dropped stone into black well
waiting for an echo
complete silence
as though my letter
had never reached him
or else it had gone straight past
youth, selfishness
same thing
common curtesy out all windows
but i cannot be angry
all i can do is write a poem
for i was as young and
more selfish once
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Editing note: line 1 of stanza two changed from ‘young, selfishness’ to ‘youth, selfishness’.
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