Wot’s–A–Matta–w’you?

You say, “Wot’s-a-matta-w’me?”
I say, “Wot’s-a-matta-w’you?”
Covert sneaking, peeking around
Trying to get a better view.
Just stay simple. Keep your alert.
No need to skulk around looking for dirt.
There’s bountiful muck and mire to be found
For those who keep their ear to the ground.
You seem to want to keep to yourself,
Secrets you used to share, now on a shelf
Hidden behind innuendo and stealth.
I hardly know you anymore.
Whatever happened to truth between friends?
That magical unspoken bond without end.
A matchless cliché on which I could depend.
I feel as though we are at war.
“Truce,” I say. A truce must be.
You mean far too much to me to
Bash our skulls on the rocks below.
Wot’s-a-matta?
I think you know.

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