Talk and promise to meet and exchange news,
An empty suggestion, an obvious ruse.
Five years past, and still we converse,
News of our live, occasionally immerse.
The open invitation to lunch does appear,
A formality at best, deceptively steer.
Call strategically as you’re arrival is near,
To limit the time that my voice you must hear.
Try to sound interested, pretend my words matter,
For just a minute until it’s your turn to chatter.
Heaven forbid that one says what they mean,
Manures mislead, true intentions unseen.
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