And so I watch
And I listen
as faithful friend after friend excuses themselves
with their funny excuses
and I laugh
at the joke that the fates have whispered to me
No one else seems to hear it
It’s not quite so funny, you see.
The pitter patter of the pity
You can hear it, you see
You can see it, actually.
“It’s a small thing among friends”
And a small thing to see in a stranger’s face
The twinge of sadness and confusion and relief for themselves
They look at me and they see what they will never be
They see, though, what could happen, horribly.
One in 100
maybe.
1,000
10,100?
less likely
(for you).
And so I watch
And I listen
And they whisper
and they wonder
and they worry
And I laugh
at the joke that life telling me,
mocking at me.
But it’s not quite so funny, you see.
The whispering of the Wonderers
Asking over politely
Never listening intently
And I’ll tell them all about it
And I will listen
to the pitter patter of the pity.
Pitter pattering;
tip toeing around me,
so constantly
and away, usually.
tip toeing of tongues in whispers so willingly disregarding me,
or cautiously eluding everything.
Or even tip toeing of tongues trying to calm me.
The pitter patter of pitty.
You can hear it, you see.
You can see it, actually.
It may be a small thing.
Truthfully, it’s bigger than you might see.
I see.
And I laugh.
at the joke that the the fates whispered.
No one else quite seems to understand it.
But It’s become quite funny, to me.
What a pity.
