Contretemps
Angry acts begin.
Harmful words would never flare,
Count to ten then once again.
Wildfire spreading fast,
With mistaken, muddled acts.
Smokey aftertaste will last.
Then finessed assaults,
Vainly exit, pride intact,
Casting blame, the other's fault.
Friendships fall head-long,
Disarrayed in stumbled steps.
Puzzled reasons blurred then gone.
Gene Bourne.
10-22-14
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Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014
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