Category: poetry

  • Don’t bite the hand

    A sourly look spreads o’er tha faceand beckons moods of ire.Once summoned by tha shattered nerves it sets tha world a’fire.A scowl to ward off fettered foeand warn of danger close.Your anger shoots across ya faceand withers those ya chose.But softly mutes those strings of painand calms your oceans squall.Once where you screamed a vacuum… →