Been There. Done That. Too Often

There is a reason why,
I do not express a desire...
To know what it is you think.

'What is it? '

I observe it around you.
And as of today,
You have never mentioned it...
As a priority or even a concern.
And you should.

'Why haven't you brought this to my attention? '

If what is obvious to me,
Has not yet dawned on your mind to see...
Why would you believe a wasting of my time,
Is on my agenda to get you to open 'your' eyes?

Been there.
Done that.
Too often.

Today?
My anger has developed into amusement.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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