Do you think I have trading skills, bargaining skills?
I swear I don’t! You can’t have me at your breakfast table
eating the honey of evil that tastes like my poison!
A wounded maverick, living in his own kindness, but irate as well!
That truth should never befall, and fall
because he thinks of everyone else, but himself
I have no glory from this preoccupation, occupation
If you all can hurt me, and turn the tables on me
Can love become involuntary from its abuse?
Can duty feel short of its length, when it is aborted due to manipulation?
There is a painful discomfort in my belly, because those that
comprise the injustice against me have no compunction!
You can say historic acts of villainy are repeated
time and again, like insects always eating
the same flower! I am no child belied for the first time,
but the most ancient soul living in the quandary of its resoluteness
I just sometimes think I should dissolve
into the shadows of my aloofness, estrangement
Because you all don’t understand the confliction caused by treachery
to my soul! There is still a health out of will, despite a relentless tragedy…
There is no resignation to the deception, though. I am not going to be the
backbone of my enemies, even if deceit has me.
I just want to slink into my own smug caves of solitude
where no evil waves can reach my dispossession and indifference!
montes-musings.blog 