prophets, my friend
don’t speak only of love
in flowery words
no, my friend
i must speak up
despite my fear and cowardice
speak up for the powerless
challenge injustice and cruelty
and you, my beloved friend
it pains me to write these words
are cruel and unjust
you should feel guilty
when you have behaved badly
it is forgivable to need
to say i am sorry
you wrong yourself and me
with a twisted double standard
it is not me that torments you
it is you
you will be sick
with troubled dreams
as long as you want to be

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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