Poem: Made to Order

Made to Order

It is very nice
that errors are rare,
that few people
will open a box
to find disappointment
at what it contains,
that you are reliable,
are an oak table
that never crumbles
when fists drop
onto the surface,
that is a thing
you are quite proud of,
tell me again and again,
repeat it as if
you are only an echo,
but I wonder why
you think it good
to rub my nose
in how reliable you are
when we both know
you have failed
in my case and all it does
is make me wonder:
if that is the truth,
why am I still here
asking for a refund?

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