Swatting the FlyA Poem by S.R. MadelineSwatting the Fly He was little, I
think his words exceeded him, even. It was a fine stitch,
when it came to word and wisdom Much becoming, about
him to think there was a
man who may have worn the cape of altruism. I was so sure it did
not exist, in so literary a term… that as I had meant
it. I had killed without
purpose, out of annoyance. and in realizing
this, I recoiled my fist. But this sense of
entitlement rang out before us. The bells which ring
in the Darkest chapel. To kill and to be
forgiven by one’s self, is Human. We would not exist
without this concept, ponder it. We have all killed
and been forgiven, by ourselves. This does not bare
the purpose of pain or blame or skepticism simply this: you cannot hate what
you understand, and I know deep down
you understand, I simply ask that you
think about it. © 2013 S.R. MadelineAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on February 12, 2013 Last Updated on February 12, 2013 Author
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