At the kiddie end of the dinner table.

Once again, I find myself,
At the shitty end of the dinner table.
The one where I end up talking more about
Who would win in a fight,
Superman or Batman
Than anything vaguely age appropriate.

Once again, I find myself,
Telling a kid to eat properly,
To stop doing whatever he's doing.
And the 13 year old making an effort to include me.
At the grown up end of the table.

Once again, it's the same fucking situation.
But one I never thought you'd put me in.
And yes, I have all the time in the world
To sit by the phone,
Ready to be your shoulder to cry on,
For you to go out and get pissed,
With someone we've spent the last 6 months
Warning each other of, talking about,
Whining about.
Whilst I get non-intoxication pissed,
At your complete disregard of me.

There have been a million friends,
Who were wrong to give me a chance,
Because I only wanted sex,
From them, or their girlfriends.

You are wrong to treat me like this.
You are wrong to think I'll put up with this.

What's the point?