Poet13's Blog

I’m a bad habit my friends aren’t miracle workers
a winding road of worn-out welcomes in my wake
the façade slips the charms grow stale.

Something about me eventually repels
something I do inevitably elicits hostility.

I cannot see it in the bright light of day
only in dreams does the wolf emerge
a creature of terror and loathing.

But predators too feel fear
fangs and claws defend and protect.

The kill is necessary to sustain life
we are made to know the sweet taste of prey
we were designed for murder.

Charity and mercy run counter to our nature
forgiveness is a feat bordering on the divine.
The work of saints is seldom seen
their secret sacrifices are not in vain.

If a tear falls onto my hands and I show it to you
will you then forgive me?
And if I laugh will you break me at last?

The real miracle would be to understand each other.