4-18-2017

No, I am not gentle

Some days I refuse to be kind
But you’ll see me offer my hand
as if I were selectively blind.

It’s not that I ignore warnings
It’s that I’d like to see for myself
I’m not trying to spite you
It’s what I’ve been taught to do

But if it spills from my fingers
that I do not love you,
creation is quite sacred
and their print is true

Might I be a criminal
just as well might you
either way keep moving
nothing good will catch us two.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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