Phil Panebianco (Bronx, New york)
Times are different and things are changing.
But maybe it's just the people.
The people around you that said they would never change, nevr go away.
They said they would always be on your side, always care.
Yet you find yourself alone, with no where to turn.
Left on your own, with no helping hand reaching out to you.
Left hanging on to whatever shred of dignity you have left.
Yet you still have to explain yourself to everyone.
Because they still love to criticize your ways.
It's like some cheap thrill.
Maybe some things will never change.
Comments about this poem (Times by Phil Panebianco )
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