STOOD UP

When the telephone called
You away to another.
“I’ll be late” you said,
“But you’re still my lover.
Heat up my dinner.
I’ll be back for a meal.
And promise me that you won’t
Feel rejected, abandoned
And denied.
Suffering from hurt pride.”

He told her he wouldn’t
Be long;
That she must occupy her mind
And be strong.
Not think only of herself
As if left upon the shelf.
For everyone matters.
He had a service to do
So she turned down the oven
And called you.

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