Special

Even though I'm his beautiful blonde
he never buys me flowers.

He no longer tells me I'm special.
He disappears for hours.

I've forgotten what it's like
to be wanted.

He takes me for granted.
Bastard!

If another man comes on
to me I'll be gone.

Don't care where. His home.
A hotel. Against a wall.

Anywhere
as long as he calls me special

and at least sounds
as if he means it.

leave my kitten alone


Poem copyright Bernard Young 2011