Once The Bait Has Been Tasted Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Once The Bait Has Been Tasted



No one should ever attempt to reason,
With another who takes pride...
In starting arguments.
Nor begin to sniff or become curious,
Of a bait to taste.
Regardless how this bait is presented.

Once the bait has been tasted, that's it.
The only escape is to await,
An aftermath of a certain escalation to pass.
But not before experiencing humiliation ends.
Again.
As if the doing of it,
Has become a habit like an addiction.
And one knows where to go to get that 'fix'.

However...
Being able to listen to understand,
And comprehend...
In which direction a conversation,
Turning from one topic abruptly...
To a name calling that begins,
Well...
That's when one's mind should then take control.
By a keeping a mouth closed to nod a head instead.
Until one's head is cool to leave a temper unexposed.

Short breaths become smoother.
When common sense is used.
And an exit to quickly take,
Upsets no one to offend.
With a change of scene one pursues.
Done to do.

Although...
These and other recommendations,
Seem more acceptable and highly effective...
When one is reflecting in retrospect.

'What happened?
Why did you come home to slam the door?
Don't tell me someone said something,
You just could not ignore.'

~I can't believe I was made to scream,
As if I was driven out of my mind.
I was sitting having a normal conversation.
And suddenly I found myself foaming at the mouth.
Banging my fist on a table.
To then be called 'this', 'that' and all kinds of names.
By someone who then asked me with a smile,
If something was wrong.
And they know what they did.
It's always the same.~

'What went wrong? Uh...
Nevermind. Forget I asked.'

~I sat too long until I got fed up.
That's what happened.
That's what's wrong.
I took the bait and ate it.
I ate if for too long.~

'Don't say another word.
I know where you've been.
Maybe to me you will begin to listen.
For real. To not pretend.'

~You don't understand.~

'You're right.
I'm not an addict.
In need of having that habit scratched.'

~What do you mean by that? ~

Friday, January 1, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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