Ode to being nice

You know how it goes the nice game
Don’t say that it isn’t what we do, not pleasant
Even when it’s true enough to make you sick
Of the verbal nicety games
And in my mind I stand there as I have a thousand times
Shredding you with my words
A tearful mess on the floor as the truth rips you apart
One day I will because it cannot stay contained
In a box,  tied prettily to keep in the mess
Maybe I won’t be the one who opens the box
And then you will be struck dumb
As the shock of your own actions come home
I am not sure I can even feel pity for you
It is all your own doing, and you could have avoided it
At any
You choose still your own desire for status
To be a
Who is not a someone you blind fool?
What are things when you are alone
Looking out
At what you could have had but threw away
Like something in the rubbish



Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember. First inspired by the wonderful stories of Roald Dahl, the Brothers Grimm etc. I adore myths and magic of all sorts, though I read so many genres it's impossible to classify it all!! Some of my poetry is truth with a healthy (or unhealthy depending on your view!),dose of magic and fiction and others are pure fiction. I'll leave you to decide for yourself which those are! Please stop by and enjoy and glad to make your acquaintance. Feel free to leave a comment 🙂

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