Anger is like a candle; Sometimes I like to watch it burn
at both ends. I don't pretend to gloss it when
I let my tongue ramble: You might catch a couple of spurs.
Empathy is a life lesson: It takes some time to learn
as sounds abound to clash with heads trapped in the clouds...
I will make soup in my kitchen if I have to eat my words.
If they're tasty,
I might go back for seconds: One could call that guilt
or remorse or beat a dead horse with my scorched
earth policies in whatever name of imagined idolatry.
I'd be sorry
for my presence and these opinions I've built
on straw hats, three on a match, a few more wars, perhaps
I should back it up and relax; be a little more worry-free.
But I won't,
Words are powerful and I've used them so often to make people
feel sorrowful. I have few short days to change my ways and make
my amends not hollow.