Sour Grapes
I know the words you use to slander me.
Your slurs mar your own virtue, not my hue.
You slam to smear cloud fuzz on your heart’s plea
that once upon a joy, sought my “I do.”
We loved with our best try for many years,
We merged a child whose sweet melts both our hearts,
Plus, we shared life’s high feels and lowdown sears.
Our past lacks sense when you throw verbal darts.
Our kind son does not know that pride-wounds speak,
but well knows ache thus aimed by slams you throw.
In time, our child will view your mind as weak
and prone to fed truth’s seeds to lies you grow.
You spew sour grapes with each ill voiced broadcast.
Please, spread not tart to false mark our joined past.
... CayCay Jennings
August 18, 2018
howmanysyllables.com
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