no title

having walked, often roughshod,

over the feelings of others

how does he now

cry pity for his own?


18 thoughts on “no title

  1. You could say something like this:

    Oh dear sir! I’m so sorry your feelings are bruised,
    It must feel every bit of your heart is infused
    With pain; and bereft, you
    Feel all have left you,
    But, sir, we are all quite amused!

    When we needed your pity you trod upon
    Our feelings, pitiless, in the sod upon
    Which you walked, leaving us
    As you boarded your bus
    And our hearts felt they’d been run roughshod upon.

    But better than you would treat us,
    We won’t leave you, for such would defeat us.
    We’ll hear your sad song
    And hope all along
    You’ll recall this the next time you greet us!

    Sorry about that one, Sidey! My limerick muscle has a “charlie horse!” What seems odd is that the people who treat you the worst are the ones that need the most help, and sort of make you wonder how they then have the nerve to come and ask for the friendship and pity they have refused to give. I usually give it, because people like that deserve all the friendship and pity they can get – but probably not for the reasons they are asking it! 😀

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