Those ones… The unresponsive, sorry I cared fragile beings. The ones who forget your a gift, the only time you’d look back at me is in tragedy, save it because you could not save me. If I were priority I’d be first on the list, not the one that gets missed, but your unresponsive, you son of a biscuit eating bulldog. I’d share my biscuits with that bulldog, but you.. Let me ask, do you cry at night? Because I’ve collected everybody’s tears, I could cry for years, but I cannot put my hope towards that. Unresponsive, the ones that are always online, cell phone in hand, glued to every snap, smile with your upside down frown. Do you ever realize who is in your presence? Do not flatter yourself too much, because I realize and that is why I cannot keep my mouth shut, or I feel the need to say something to you, I’m not going out of my way for you, it is what I’m suppose to do. Would you like an award for this self entitlement you feel? Thank god for free will because I’d shatter you. I’m better then NO one, so I speak whenever I’m spoken to. But the unresponsive ones, who pick and choose, those ones. Their hearts are in the air, but I’m not the one juggling it, I’m the one trying to grab it, put it back in its place, safe and protected where it belongs. I guess your unconscious, and unresponsive, but I’m not against you… I never was, but if it is a personal issue, please take the time to get over yourself because it is not about you, it is not about me but God is making it about you.. I’m responsive if you ever decide to change your played out dial tone..