Time finally permits me to try my hand at a decima poem.
If only I wasn’t so mad,
Perhaps I can see some real sense,
Perhaps I can show gentle grace,
And not make threats that seem so bad;
But I am beyond care, and mad,
Seeing evil intent right here,
Seeing cruel attitude there,
Not how care is demonstrated,
How would one show true love instead,
I am certain It’s not aware.
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