The Good, Goodbye

They stated their claim
With such false bravado
Girls who call themselves
Women
Who could not look me in the eye
The twitching foot
The nervous breath as one spoke
The other nervously swallowing
Her own self regret
And I in my steel
Cold chair
Continued to stare
The face of calm
In their attempt
To paint funeral balm
On a colorful life I am
Now painting
She finally looked up
Surprise in her eye
And I smiled in the face
Of her callous lie
No
This was no
Good, goodbye
I smiled and thanked them
Never asking why
No need to hear
Another smear
So I went home
And filled up another cup
Of my own good cheer.