When People Hurt You Poem by Ailbhe Eighteen

And so I pick the needles
With utmost care I handed it to you
Hitherto, it pricked my forefinger
Bleeding a crimson blood of ill
of hurt
of alcohol sprayed to my open wound
of you slapping me
You didn't say sorry
Nor spare a nod at me
I want to whirl and my eyes shall kill you
Like a laser of diffusive fire
Inside me is a monster frenetic to come out
But a clear voice howled in me is saying
''Love your enemies;
Don't go with the river's current;
Compose yourself;
Hit a pop song when annoyed;
Smile a ton,
For there are a thousand and one reasons
to love
There are seventy times seven times
to forgive''