The Day

You always wanted me
to talk about myself
and I asked you questions
that you forgot I asked.
But now,
now that I'm not interested,
my caring beaten out of me,
and the spark has waned,
you feel you have talk.
What is it about you
that you cannot, refuse to see
what matters to me?
Don't try to play off
that you're nice or something,
because you've never showed it to me.
Sure you do nice things,
but you don't do them for me,
and that is all I really wanted...
those idle questions answered,
and a little bit of listening.