Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Honor
In a small room smells
Like vomit justice
Without context
has the stench
Of self
Righteousness

Cowards need
Company and lots
Of words to cover
Their lies, ever
see the eyes
Of people at a
Lynching how
Intentionally
Dull they are
always

The most twisted
And meanest
spirited
Among them found
Someone who made
Them feel small found
the fault real or
imagined egged
Them all
On started a war
By the most ancient
Of excuses saying

They’d been attacked
Stuffed
All the shame of their
Fabricated
Victimhood
Down the hanging
Man’s throat and invited
Him to defend
himself

smallness
makes my soul
hurt and I wander
outside look up at the
stars until their
distances make me
realize how small
I am how much I need
Those awful
people

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