It’s Not That Nice
I’ve tried to stop from spitting back.
I’ve tried to cater what you lack.
To just be nice seemed like the goal.
But now it’s time for me to troll.
It may seem childish and crass.
A phase that with time just will pass.
But maybe not, it might persist.
It’s time for someone to get pissed.
It’s for the greater good, you see.
Not out of spite, not just for me.
I’ll call you out; you’ll feel the heat.
It won’t be fun, this meet and greet.
You’ll know the burn, the scorch, the sear,
The pain you’ve never had to fear.
You’ve looked away, ignored the scene,
And now it’s time to burn the green.
Your lids can’t keep the image out,
For this is more than light and doubt.
It’s real and it’s always been.
Can’t run away from what’s within.
I’m sorry. It’s what must be done.
Scratch that, no room for rueful guns,
Since courtesy comes with a price,
And
honestly, it’s not that nice.
