So angry I am made; your perfidy so galls!
You’re bad. Is thus my loathing righteousness?
Yet ofttimes I was a seagull’s caw
up on the jagged wind.
Not every company deserves tomorrows.
But anger pays its way with soul.
A lien for which but fools borrow.
And who among’s never sinned?
A lady’s hair is loosed, outlining now
broad gulping gusts atop a scudding sea.
Pale pekid crimes foglike the streets prowl
while warlords relax at home.
So tired I am made; your perfidy so bores!
You waste your strength. Is my disdain then wise?
But oft you were a lizard’s shaking dash
across bright desert stone.
Some jobs more harm than help.
Contempt, though, also nothing adds.
Arranging glass animals on shelf,
I lose the thread.
Still it remains the case that you make business decisions with the intent of hurting other people for the sake of private gain.
What you are up to is not OK.
You should rethink your approach.
Beyond this, I wander lonely back to this standard desperate prayer: that God heal us all so that we may all all-together better know how we are all all-together One.
Author: Fergie Mees Elff
Editor Team: AW/BW