I Talked
By Linda A. Copp

I talked to him of private things,
of loneliness and pain.
I told him all my lofty dreams
my emptiness,
my shame.

I told him of my principles,
beliefs and loves,
and rhyme.
I spoke to him of special needs,
of hurts
 and friends of mine.

I poured out the mirror,
the bottle which was me
And he seemed to drink its contents,
like a glass will hold the sea.

But, when I'd all but finished
and then let my trusting fall.
Well, I guess he wasn't really listening,
not really listening, after all.

  By Linda A. Copp
 ©May 16, 1971