Anna Nomaly Poet Quatrain

Good Man

I try to believe that you’re a good man
When your actions say you’re not
With tear stained cheeks I’m hopeful
Sadly hope is all I’ve got

Through every argument where I
Defend your hallowed kindness
And try to brush it off with thoughts
Of your enemies’ bitter blindness

But every year and every day 
I hear more tarnishing tales
Of reputation burned through with horrors
Yet you’re proud of these secretive tears

The strangest, saddest, maddening part 
Is the difference between me and my peer
Where your foolish follies meet with my despair
From him are met with cheer

Raised in the same nest and fed the same seed
Somehow we differ so
He sees me and scoffs at my “ignorance”
I see him and weep for the habits he shows

I hope you’re happy. That you’ve broken my spirit
You continue to prove how you’re damned
And now my brother, with pride, shall follow your footsteps.
And I thought you were a good man.

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