the curse of mouthy warriors
who live to breathe
with complexities,
disguised plainly behind
facets of co-morbid disease,
the sickening attempts to stab,
spread open fresh lacerations,
implant demonic seed,
cruel intentions,
untoward,
they try to make
that girl ashamed,
and bleed, bleed, bleed,
but she will not react,
her face impassive,
then kind,
there is no soul behind their purpose,
she’s permitted to unwind time.
crucify her with
phrases subtle yet
laid bare,
read over and over,
crossword clues,
take but one step
in her shoes,
dare ye know that all of us bruise?
callous, unkind,
who are they to
have that say,
spread-eagled,
baring fresh life,
angel wings soaring,
demonic?
Nay!
Gentle breaths now,
stay away if bearing cruel measures.
Her new life is tender,
with strokes as light as a feather.
© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Emma Henry from Pexels
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