Typing in a typewriter with a blank sheet inserted

Tell me your story.

Tell me your story,
Tell me about your life,
Maybe I’ll feel sorry,
Maybe I’ll understand your plight,
Maybe I’ll understand why you’re suddenly so uptight,
But if you don’t?
Don’t expect me to know,
That the scowl on your face is not merely for show,
That your repulsive attitude is ‘cos you’re really on the low,
I can’t know these things if I’m not told,
Clairvoyance is not my gift, if you must know,
If you must be sad, be sad on your own,
Don’t shove your ineptitude feelings down other people’s throat.

Day 11 of 100.

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