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Bigmouth Your word was born to bleed with others’ blood, A meat axe anvilled from your iron truth. In friendship’s name, unsheathed it friendship strikes: In truth, old friend, it is no friendship, this. What sanctity unbound your word’s restraint, And gave it liberty to strike at will? What blindness struck your mandate, like a seer, To sear your blunted justice on my soul? Behold, I do transmute myself to air, You move through me while I remain unmoved. In sentencing, your word of truth is just: Now vanished are all those you said you loved. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Nancy Ann Hemsworth On Date: 2005-06-04 16:52:25
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.75000
OH Mark I know that feeling so well, and have been the victum of it. Friendship indeed, abuse more like it in reality. This is so well said, you have described so elegently what this person is like and the effects they have on those around them, and alas at the end "now vanished are all tose you said you loved. Wonderfully written, I enjoyed your insight.