Taking Care Of Others Warning Haiku

When taking care of
others means you don’t take care /
of yourself, please change.

She’s Learning, I’m Lonely: Haiku Lament

She’s learning. That’s good
for her. I’m left out and so
lonely. Bad for us.

I’m watching her first,
and mine, replay themselves. Our
conversation’s *mute.

OR
*gone.

OR
*dead.

It’s ok to have
P on the floor, as long as
it’s a vegetable.

We have deep talks when/
her device gives insights. Else,/
I’m left to myself.

AND

I thought myself wise,
insightful, worth talking to.
I’m boring, replaced.

AND

Were I wisked away,/
I would not be missed. She could/
still comment to friends.

AND

Some fight unfaithful/
lovers. Others get replaced/
by technology.

AND

If porn is wrong ‘cuz/
it subs for intimate love,/
what is device talk?

As long as I’m as/
I am, those with me will stay/
never satisfied.

I’m still doing what
I think I should, still wanting
to believe I’m good.

As my glory fades,
I struggle, then realize:
It was never mine.

How can and should I/
show respect to someone who/
doesn’t respect me?

There once was a man
who didn’t wash his hands
then touched everything in the kitchen.

When I remind him again
after he’d touched his glands,
I always felt I was bitchin’.

(That is to say,
not in a good way,
I’d rather eat rotten chicken.)

What should I do?
What should I say?
I continually remind him
day after day.

He just shrugs and stares.
He clearly doesn’t care.
Maybe not caring’s the trick
(At least ’til I get sick.)

You’d think what we’d seen
during Covid-19
would change his hand washing
without all my bossing.

What should I do?
I haven’t a clue.
And now I’ll go puke
’cause I’ve got the flu.