May 15, 1985
Whose abuse is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite angry though.
He was mean like dirty dinero.
I watch him squirm, I say, no! no!
His abuse is all types of aches,
And screams I’ve made a bad mistake.
He's at the point of a nervous break,
In distant silence I hear he’s like a snake.
The words are excessive and deep,
And has aggressive promises for keeps,
Tormented with nightmares never sleeps.
Revenge is a poison a man should not reap.
He rises early from his cursed big bed,
With thoughts of violence in his head,
A flash of rage and he sees red.
Without thinking I turned and fled.
With thanks to the poet, Robert Frost, for the underlying structure.
December 29, 2018