The traveller's song is more of a hymn
An all-enveloping cacophonous din,
Perhaps it was more of a moment for you...
For me it was nothing of the sort.

You afford me only the fleeting reward of attention
When for me it was so much more than a temporary discretion:
Please tell me I was not just a slighted fling;
Don't I deserve more than to be used, discarded, distraught?

Immature, insecure, ineffective, idiotic,
I wanted a sun not your chilly disappointment.
© Crisp