It’s Good to Talk

They say it’s good to talk,

but when I do

why do people decide to walk?

Are they tired of listening

to the same old things,

do my monotonous platitudes

have a hollow ring?

How can I expect them to help

when I don’t help myself?

I think nothing is my fault

it’s always someone else’s.

Now my phone calls go unanswered

because they have

all worked out

I am nothing but a chancer.

Too self-absorbed to think

they might have their own troubles,

and too lazy to solve my own puzzles

All of which has left me

stranded on life’s merry go round,

where my whining voice

is the only sound.