Prete Mot Ta Plume Poem by Ramona Thompson

Prete mot ta plume
Lend me thy pen
For my friend I have a complaint
A complaint to make about you and the serious lack of attention that you have been paying to me lately
Always up until now
I thought we were friends
Maybe later on
Maybe just maybe
A little something more
Now I find you're thinking the complete opposite
Headed it seems in a whole other direction
By you my friend
I have been abandoned
Forgotten
Left out
And so preplexed, bewilered, and really quite bothered
I feel that I must ask you
I simply must ask of my friend to
Prete mot ta plume
Lend me thy pen
So that I may of thee
When?
When did fortune, fame, drugs and other women become so much more important?
When did they come to mean to you, my friend?
So much more then we once did?

2009 Ramona Thompson