Still picking at a sore, here...
It is not so much the isolation
That comes from being alone,
But the abandonment
When the frenzy of former friendships fizzles,
And I become neglected and abandoned
Like a Jack-o-Lantern on Thanksgiving Day?
"oh, the old patterns! Oh, the old sayings!
Oh, the trouble of being inconvenienced..."
When no longer in fashion,
Must I adopt a new vogue?
Or become a two-bit character actor,
Playing to scripts unseen?