Reverse call

It's three O'clock,
I take my phone,
My fingers quavering,
My mind galloping like a stallion,

I want to make that call,
To tell you to come back,
On the buttons I press,
Trembling like I have a fever,

I press the number,
But I hang up,
Before the dial could connect,
I put the phone back,
And with a whisper,
I speak the words,
That I would have wanted you to hear,

Unsure they would have made sense,
At this point in time,
I take the phone again,
Sure this time I will not fret,
I dial your number again,
But you won't pick up,

I scribble a short message,
And with a whisper I read,
Wishing you could hear,
I dial your number again,
This time, it sounds like a reverse call,
All my calls, diverted to a stranger's phone,

In a twist of events,
It's a reverse call,
And all that is left,
Is for me to talk to myself,
Since you to my plea,
You won't listen.


K8's O