one way streets

by Linda M. Crate

sometimes i'm wrong,
but you're not
always right
so sick and tired of
being taken granted
for and
overlooked
by people who supposedly
care;
give me an ocean
let me be
an island
grow my trees and happiness
in utter solitude—
where visitors
can come for a while then
go away,
and it'll be okay
because
i won't mind being alone
and we won't owe
each other anything;
so tired of
people
always wanting something
because i'm a giver
i give with all my heart and all
they ever want to do is rip
out every last moon beam of my
silver soul
i'm tired of these one way streets
they're all so very vexing.