Venting


I speak, but no one listens.
At least, that's how it seems.
I repeat myself, in hopes to be heard,
They roll their eyes at me.
Since I can't speak, I try to listen,
Trying to stay in the loop.
When they notice me listening, they are quieter,
Or tell me that I'm not included.
I don't understand what I did wrong,
Resulting in being rejected.
I do what I'm told, no questions asked,
What more do they expect?
I put on a smile and bottle it up,
But I feel like I'm going to explode.
I'm crying inside, but taking deep breaths,
Hoping weakness doesn't show.
I feel like soda after it's dropped,
As you unscrew and rescrew the cap.
When you unscrew it the bubbles rush to the top,
Then quickly rescrew it so it doesn't end badly.
Either way the soda gets poured,
Whether it's in small or large amounts.
At first the bubbles will still be there,
But in time, they will die down.
Instead of drinking it and enduring self-pity,
I poured it on a paper and pen,
I feel a lot better and the bubbles are receding,
And the soda is coming to an end!

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