Crossfire contemplation

Comments of jest and remarks of pride,

in which suppressed emotions confide.

Instigation pressured by company not worth a cent,

time devoted earnestly only to seem sadly spent.

Pain, malice, hurt, arrogance and hate

vented like words on a blackened dirty slate.

Prolonged suffering stretching further than the sea

fallen unjustly to those simply trying to be.

 

 

Unskilled warfare merciless in pursuit,

seeking out souls still shy and minute.

Handing over lies that unravel into fact

like waves unrelenting, leaving nothing intact.

Palpable conflict spreading fiercely through the air,

constant vicious slander becoming too much to bear.

For words are as numerous as the sand on a beach

but woe to all those with no restraint of speech.

 

 

It begins at the crossfires, the breeding ground of hate -- 

where ignorance is the mouse, devoured by the snake.

Feelings once dormant, exercising their wits,

colouring retorts of spite, and malevolent quips.

Provocation the catalyst for unleashing this disease,

untamed slurs said with nonchalant ease.

Blinded by emotion to justify the lashes;

attacking something precious and reducing it to ashes.

An unending cycle practiced on a daily basis

stripping away the souls, held behind the faces.

 

 

Is there anyone at all who understands what they do?

When they shoot daggers with lies that pierce right through.

Words flung naïvely that seep into the heart

making some poor soul think, "yeah, anyone could play my part."

Looking back to those moments, it’s so painful to think

that someone could justify forcing others to the brink--

to the point where they’re broken, where their hearts are scarred,

where they’re throwing up their hands screaming, "this life is too hard!"

 

 

My plea; think about the words that you choose to speak.

Are you building someone up, or harassing them with critique?

Because this poem is a tribute, to a friend who left the race

and I miss his warm smile, his laugh and his face.

But he was so broken, his spirit so marred--

Rest in peace my friend; you fought well, you fought hard.

 

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