Contempt, or is it paranoia?
Your contempt ?
My paranoia ?
It doesn’t matter which,
it’s there etching
like acid etches glass,
eating my ego
until I want to hide my eyes.
How did it happen?
When did your words
register on my retina?
Who are you anyway
with your wicked written wit?
More pertinently
why do I wallow in it?
Comments
threeleafshamrock | January 10, 2009 - 13:29
A craftsman at work! You set the standard for all. Brilliant. If this is not cherry picked, there is no god.
Chris
Ewan | January 10, 2009 - 14:00
Hmmm.... think I'll go and read all the comments on your work now, Val. :-)
Bradene | January 14, 2009 - 11:35
Thanks Chris you are very knd. Val x
Bradene | January 14, 2009 - 11:36
OK Ewan, off you go then (o: Val