Tea in the Afternoon
"You have no sense of humor" said she,
copyright 2006 carolyninjoy
A gentle boy had his kindness squelched
A young man grew with suspicious eye
A man he was with cynicism galore
A stooped old man, unkind and mean
A lonely grave sits amongst the weeds,
I mourn for him for he never knew
Copyright 2006 Carolyn Injoy
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with undisguised hostility.
"It was just a joke."
It took great effort to choke
back a harsh reply.
I made no point to deny.
Her concrete opinion wouldn't change.
My attitude I'd rearrange
far quicker than her thought.
"Did you see what I bought?"
extended her manicured fingers flaunting
a new ring and added "It's real!" slightly taunting,
as if a ring
or any other thing
might distract me from her animosity.
I knew of her verbosity
so I needn't search for a single word.
I was silent. No matter, she couldn't have heard
for her own voice still echoed in her ears
and had done so, for too many years
to count. "Like my hair?"
And pointing "You take that chair."
Even something as simple as seating, control she must.
She knew not how to trust
anyone else's decision,
which might lead to collision
with the getting of her own way.
I sat, knowing I wouldn't stay
longer than absolutely necessary then would say, "Oh, well,
I must leave or traffic will be hell."
We'd air kiss and bid farewell.
Not really meaning it but try
and wonder when the other one would die,
I thought how sad it was to come to this.
We once been friends.
A Gentle boy not a Gentleman
because too many people in his life had welched
on promises made but did not keep.
His trust was broken, his doubt was deep.
unwilling to hope, or even to try.
Too many people had broken his trust,
left his hopes and dreams in the sandy dust.
not something you find in any store.
Bitter and resentful he often was,
I know it's true. He had just cause.
life cheated him of all good it seemed.
He was harsh and bitter and sometimes cruel
alone he sat, spooning in his gruel.
he pushed away all with his uncouth deeds.
There's no tombstone but a metal plate
with nothing on but his name and dates.
the joys of love and a heart that's true.
When I think of him, my heart does yen.
I wonder what might've, would could have been.
Written August 2006. 
