One Way Traffic

You don't write me love songs
You don't send me flowers
You don't send me e-mails
Anymore

Or, in the style of the theme from Prisoner Cell Block H:

You used to send me e-mails
I wish you would again
But that was on the upside
And things were different then

On the underside, the blog does grow
And the sun comes beating down
But the sun and e-mail are prisoners too
When the time difference comes around


You all read my blog but it's one-way traffic. You don't email me anymore because you don't need me to tell you what's going on in my life - so what the bloody hell's going on in yours?

Harumph. Might go off sick with writer's cramp in protest.