Imposter

Imposter
you’ve told me about the depths of your emotion.
I’ve heard your words. I’ve read your poems.
None of which were particularly grand,
but I complement them and gave you a hand.
I know how important poetry can be,
for one with emotions as deep as the sea.

Through many interactions we developed a friendship.
Then, all at once, you considered me worthless.
At first I was haunted by old memories
of people I’ve lost and such miseries,
but lately I’ve been looking closer
at your actions. You’re just a poser.

Your poetry speaks of a love so deep,
yet you gave him up for some other creep.
I’ve spoken to your other “friends,”
who said you dropped them like old trends.
I let you in. I gave you trust.
You threw me out like so much dust.

I thought that I had brought you harm,
which was the cause for my alarm,
but all you were was sick of me.
I’ll grant your wish. Of me, you’re free.
Don’t come back to rekindle our bond.
I’m done with you. I won’t respond.

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