We talk about much that is nothing,
Just small talk, but nothing that is everything.
The important topics that I want to hear, to listen, to understand
You skirt around and then I try the back door
but still, prying you open challenges me.
My tone, my words, my actions, they all continue to try.
You tend to be working, distracted, when we speak,
Always in love with ideas, with ideals
And you tell me what you know I want to hear.
I am more than so many to you, yet the same.
I walk away, hang up and feel empty.
There's a big something missing.