The Words Begin To Dance
Read me,
As the words begin to dance, vacillating bewilderedly.
Without knowing who and where, or even when,
Foolishly stepped out, to meet a kind
The kind with bitter, chunderous, nature.
Kind, very kind without a doubt.
A warm, contrasting view of this being
4 limbs, 2 faces, steps out to greet me,
With its soft, frail hand,
I pity the misunderstood, as rumours mutate
And transmogrify, smothering the barbarous reality
It smiled at me with one face
While the truth is
I set out to meet something different
Something much different,
Something noxious, oppressive being entitled
To authoritarianism, ideology and power
But it wasn’t here.
Or at least not yet
Copyright © Cat Lover | Year Posted 2022
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