Poem again

Listen

I try to defend myself

against your moody blows

–constantly,

irratically,

how easily the venom flows.

I try to offer support

but your temporary anger,

and quickening hurt

sees it as redicule and judgement,

that was never really there.

Your quick assuming mind,

expects the fatal,

devasating end.

never stoping once,

to patiently to hear

what I have to say.

My jokes aren’t meant to hurt

only soften the mood,

when some ones heart is breaking

tearing,

shattering

into a million tears accross the tiled floor.

The words of wisdom I offer

aren’t a necessary true

just ideas ,

thoughts,

and clues,

as to how you might help you.

I try and hang on

and understand your soul

I try and defend myself

against your sarcastic tongue,

that comes in unneccassary spurts

–constantly,

irratically,

causing me unecassary hurt.