cyberthuggian

when the morning comes
i’ll yearn for transcendence again
tho’ the days keep piling all around
but before i know it i’ll be choking on fire
the fulsome hate behind your words

we’re not the object of your resentment
your feelings are way too big for our insides
we’re wayfaring strangers, not obliging quintains
so tilt at yourself please and leave us alone
don’t make us breach like worn out wineskins

is this what you want, to slut shame us?
fine, if it helps then you’re the higher one
and we are the weak, tawdry, ignoble
so when the morning comes you’ll have won
and i’m sure this knowledge will have warmed your bed

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016