relief to write

Standard

Ungrateful

No one thanks the sun for warming

Or the gentle earth for forming

Sweetest rain for falling

They take for granted calling

What lives to do it’s duty

No one thanks the sky for beauty

So no one’s thanking me for loving

And I can feel myself becoming

A part of back-drop scenery

A pretty bit of greenery

Like trees, at once were planted

Now are took at last for granted

Until fall comes to fruition

Then comes in a new transition

And fruit comes ripe for plucking

And the sounds of gentle sucking

On love-life gave quite freely

And thanks would be-ideally

Proffered after supping

Yet in the end, I’m cupping

My empty cup for sipping

Pretend to take, but slipping

And sighing, dropped bereftly

I take the love what’s left me

And thank me ever-kindly

-A shot at those who blindly

Take all without compensing

The one what does dispensing

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