My Turn

A poem of accepting that some people do not change and are not worthy of your energy.

I can weaponize contempt,

I have, against you.

I made every attempt to ignore your intent,

To deny my rightful place.



No longer can I stand, silent and small,

Though you talk big game,

I know I could make you fall.

I’m not being dramatic or weird,

When I talk back and challenge,

I simply can feel,



Your time is coming to an end.

I know you are weak, in body and mind,

I can make you bend, break, and bend,

Until deep, deep down I make you find,

A morsel of compassion, that’s all you will need,

To feel anything more than insatiable greed.



I know logically, you will not change,

And though, perhaps, I can make you feel pain,

You will stay the same throughout the age,

And all you do to my energy is drain,

You were never my main focus

In this giant game of chess,

Where players are political pawns,

Nothing more, nothing less.


You are not worth my arguments,

I don’t believe you ever were.

Wave you aside with a flick of my hand,

Stand back, dear sir, I have the floor.