We Make Fist
Comes at you with fists and licks
Turns spirals around heads that make you sick
I've seen this before-
Once before I've seen this
Been it pure from the waist to the fingertips
Makes strikes propel at an instant
Runs for blocks at rapid speeds for a distance
Turns mortal men into mere meek witnesses-
That bare no righteous resemblance
Pours knowledge into minds like liquid
Can't be trumped, copied or mimicked
This thing near casualty when embraced or finished
But I am here to speak in profound sentence
To speak it in air till it shakes and quivers
Makes goodness barren of right and reason
Makes badness sour at its plum till weakened
Because I've had enough of people not showing up when intended
Sick and tired of showing up while my efforts go unreciprocated
So, I tire easy
I retire willingly
To escape this growing, manic hostility
That shows no signs of ending.
Copyright © Bianca Jones | Year Posted 2012
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