A collection of thoughts and works by D.C. Franklin and M.N. Shiplet. Read, reflect, storm away in rage.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

What pettiness is this?
What miscommunication?
I said my peace clearly,
And believed it was understood.

But a political decoy appeared:
Attacked from within the party,
using a superior's name as its fire.

What motive is this?
What goal to be achieved?

Make an example of me --
Defensive cowardice, I see it.
I beat it with a worded glance:
To make a point.

I wish it weren't necessary
Maybe I could help?
As if I weren't helping in the first place.

The conversation was rigged,
But I knew your weakness.
It was simple:
You forgot to look for mine.

If you had, you'd have seen
A simple futility in the moment that occurred --
The wedding airstrike --

I want to be the best,
And I'll bend the rules to make it happen.
Flimsy as they are.

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