Good For

If my rights, to you,
or lack thereof,
are an annoyance,
when spoken of;

when you refuse to learn,
to grow better than you were,
when it's too much work
to not hurt people worse off than you;

when you throw fourteen years out the window
because I remind you that the world is a dark place
for other people, and that if you're not part of the solution
then you're a part of the problem,
and you know as well as I do that you're not trying to solve anything...

When you're too good for your best friend of nearly two decades,
because she faces troubles you don't have to and so
you feel like it's too much damn drama,
because she won't let it go already
with her activist propaganda...

Well, what are you good for then?
Besides trivializing my mental illness,
my social repression, that is.
Well, I'll tell you you're no good for me,
and good riddance to you.