Sometimes
I sit
and I ask myself

selfish questions

important to me,
Me Alone.

They aren't all very deep.
But all of them,
Are about me.

Sometimes,
it is something
I wish I had
or that
I feel I need.

If my scope broadens
As it has in occasion
I think about another

Gone. Now.

These thoughts
are full circle
Back to me.

How I miss them
If they think of me?
if I ever will see them again?

Why they left me?

So selfish,
not to want
As I want.

When they are all
I seem to think about.

How lonely it is
for Me.

Why make Me feel
This way.
Nobody ever thinks,
About Me.

Me.
Me.
Me.