I’m not mad at you
Anger epitomizes hatred
Not in my poet’s sack of vocabulary
I’m all love
I’m all ears and soul
To listen to your grievances
Constructed by ignorance
Deconstructed by misinformation
Bless you, poor you
I’m full of sympathy beyond reason
Can’t you hear the whistles ?
They’re calling for everything you’re lacking
You can shut me up or shoot me in ice cold blood
The echoes of insufflated breaths
Will guide you to your senses
Hopefully
It’s all good
I’ve got plenty of those in my poet’s sack…
To Renee Good♥
Lilly Bayle
