I oft’ wonder why,
when I’m dabbling
with my mind, you don’t
end my babbling.
I’ll start to go off
on some sort of rant
’bout how I should do
something but I can’t.
I’ll reiterate
for the umteenth time
and still you let me
continue my crime.
You sit back and watch
as I make a fool
of myself and yap
away on my stool.
At the very end,
when I’m about done,
you pretend and act
like the talk was fun.
You’ve heard it all said
countless times before
and we both know that
you’ll hear it some more.
I just wanted to
thank you for your love
that you give me when
I do the above.
