1st Priority

I want to be someone’s 1st priority. Is that too much to ask?

If I’m needed for help, royally, I’m down for the task.


Yes, I am loved, and we all have our lives.

But I can’t seem to escape loneliness, to no one’s surprise.


I hate that I need it, attention, I mean.

I reach out for touch, but I feel I’m rarely seen.


A ghost in the real world, but a soldier in mine.

My trust is in crumbles, I cringe when it’s time.


My friends are all busy and women don’t try.

Associates are temporary and enemies are high.


Professionals are fake and strangers are rude.

I can’t deal with life, I’m not in the mood.


I’ll go back to my home, the world I will flee.

And remain no one’s priority, as far as I can see.





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