Just Saying

I wade through the muck
of your vocal excretions
anxious to mend the schism

What species of human
are you, would fabricate
such lies, impose such pain

And what species am I
that would tolerate it;
strive for reparation?

(Image my own)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

24 thoughts on “Just Saying”

  1. Difficult under best of circumstances to judge when to walk away and when to hope that one’s willingness to interact will make some dent in the other’s perspective … and who ever gets blessed with the best of circumstances?

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      1. I agree, V.J. I thought of only one situation when I first read it, but now that you mention it, I can think of many. Ah, the mark of a good poem is when readers can take different interpretations.

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