Choose Your Words
Is it the content that leads to discontent,
or the arrangement of the word I find so
absurd. These poems, hearts full of hate,
the very soul they stab and penetrate.
Sentences thrown with lack of light,
meanings lost in wrong or right. Too
much angst, too much pain, scour the
page, the eye disdain. Sentences dark,
bare of fruit, hatreds path a lonely route.
As some with venom speak, can we pause
and turn the cheek. Be at peace in this
world so small, rid the page of hatreds scrawl.
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