Enemy Poem
Cursed be the man who wrongs the widowed,
for his inheritance is that of the wretched,
his soul be damned.
Damned be the man who crosses the politician,
he who will make it his policy
to disturb his vocation.
Pitied be the man who makes his enemy the poet,
for he is doomed to languish for all time
in tales of sorrow and defeat.
Hated be the man who does not love
for he has lost his humanity;
he will not be loved back.
Sorrowed be the man who bears no children;
upon the lips of his enemies,
his name falls in disgust.
Careful be the man who insults the privileged,
as deep as their pride runs,
so shall his troubles.
Lost be the man who learns not from his mistakes,
his enemy will see his weakness
and his wait to strike will be short.
Broken be the man who does not prepare,
he goes into battle easily
and is taken out the same.
Copyright © Keith Baker | Year Posted 2011
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