Random...love-hate

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You speak
And I'm expected to listen
Oh, wonderful orator!

You speak
And I'm  expected to trust (that what is said is absolute),
I am expected not to process the thought
Let alone, disagree.

But I dare to speak
And just as suddenly,
We speak different tongues,
And cry for interpreters to come to our aid.

I slowly speak,
Yet my words reach you on a different frequency
What possibly will you have me say?
Either I dance to your tune
Or else, I'm toying with your destiny?

You speak,
Or is it possible I am the one not hearing rightly?
How did we get here?
When did translators become a norm?

Lord knows I'm not over this.
But this is where we are...
This is the colour of our friendship
Or whatever 'this' is
This is what we have become.
I watch on as this drama unfolds.

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