Me Poem by David Whittingham

I hate you all,
After all I've done,
Not a single second taken from you’re day,
A pound for an internet connection,
Ten pence for a text,
Twenty pence for a letter,
I don’t ask much, just acknowledgement,
That I was more than a nothing to any of you,
I can understand why you couldn’t come,
You have busy lives,
But how much is a minute when all is said and done
Maybe it’s too much to ask,

How come when the going gets tough I'm there,
Available for a quick drink,
A shoulder to cry on.
An impartial witness to chat things out with,
An expert of the grind, the hate, depression,
Tolerant of all,
Yet when I need anything,
No ones there,
I can’t be sad, depressed,
Cause then what am I,
Useless, embarrassing to be around,
A fat, hairy, stinking, bile pit,
Not approached by mortal hand,

Why can’t you love me?
Am I all that bad?
I have my faults,
But I would do anything,
Anything at all,
I can change,
Alas the cry of the rejected,

After all why compare,
To the rest of you,
In fact I'm beyond compare,
Cause I’m better than you,
All of you,
Scum.
But then,
You use me up
Until…
There's nothing left.