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The Misanthrope In a corner of my soul hides a misanthrope. A little part of me that doesn't wish to be bothered with the niceties of polite conversation, or the rituals of friendship. The obligations that come with being a human, and the necessity of sparing a person's feelings. Tact and diplomacy have never come easily to a person who believes that dishonesty has no place in society. |
Additional Notes:
This is a poem I wrote when I first began writing poetry. Am thinking of
developing the theme, but am blocked. Any suggestions are welcome, please
no disingenuous critiques.
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