Spite, My Shadow

I never once had spite, To feel like I want to pick a fight but- I believe that it is never, ever right! It is like a docile dog, but you wouldn’t expect it to bite… right? Always keep your hands in sight and- Don’t fight! Don’t throw a punch lest your reputation falls to blight Dip your finger down the wrong liquid might- You singe your skin so soft to corrode and calloused, am I right? Sit, stay and keep it inside, Welcome it and never hide- For on its own will it go outside, So pray, pray with all your might may- The lost shadow dance its way into the light Be free- and take flight.