Benjamin K Duncan
I see myself in every jaded old person. Soon I will be an old person.
And I will be every bit as jaded as them. Why, because they missed opportunities.
They're angry at themselves, because they thought they could change their destiny.
But from the very first words or malice. Their verve was gone.
Slowly chipped away, with every rejection.
Little did they realise, the rejectors had been disparaged.
Only to repeat;
Only to give birth and continue this cycle;
This enema of a child.
So the next time, you raise your voice to criticise.
To reprimand, mock and degrade.
Think of who you are yourself.
And what have those you've loved done to you.
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Comments about this poem (Cyclic Malice by Benjamin K Duncan )
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