Your empathy

Your empathy is but a trinket

bought on an online marketplace

a bauble made of plastic

cost nothing to make, is worth nothing

you sell it

like it’s something to cherish

but you don’t understand

what I’ve been through

you feel for me

yet you ignore me in a crowd

I know I am going to see you crying

in the front row

at my funeral

during a moving eulogy

telling everyone how you wish

we could have been friends.

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