Poem: Bloodletting



So tell me,
are you happy,
cleaver swinging gleefully,
blood, much of it your own,
horrifying the innocent bystanders whose only sin
is a desire to love
those they have always loved?

About this poem

A verse about politics, ex’es, enemies, and others. Reader’s choice, they all fit. Just as love is love, hate is hate and the people hurt most are never the angry or the intended victims. It’s everyone else.

The cleavers in the picture were Christmas presents from the woman I love (3 of them) and my sister (the oriental ones).


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