Don’t say anything.
Don’t say one word
she’s angry inside
bursting forth.
A living volcano
spewing pumice of
words
like rocks on fire
hitting you
in a life and death
onfrontation at your
mature age
where most of loving folk
retire.
To keep the peace I’ll rather
dress and when I miss the bus
I’ll rather walk along the brook
to catch the one to the subway
not minding the thirty minute
walk to reach it.
Don’t say a word
just walk and let my feet digest
all poisoned arrows
that wounded them with
sudden impact.
zoltanzelan
©ZJG-Poetry’16.
Great piece!
Thank you my dear! ZZ
Thanks for liking my poem. I appreciate your comment. It encourages me looking for the perfect poem. Zoltan.