the enemy


is always the soulless
the snake in the grass
forked in wait
armed and ready
wrong until the pits of death
wrong with every last breath
the enemy is a wish
of every friend
a need a tournament
a measure against what went too far
an obsession that started a war
the enemy is an accident
starring flaffers too loud
dragging gods where mortals
will not bow
promoting flaff’o’which
no one can be proud
of accidents in need of hate
heroes who need to be made
to be told what they like
what is good what is great
the enemy is always the enemy
if only there were no friends
or scales

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2 Responses

  1. Ahh but there are friends, Ms Mist and you are one. And your poetry is fabulous.

    ~MM – As are you Mr.Squires, thank you!

  2. yep…very true..

    you have said this with grace and dignity that the topic required..

    good job..

    ~MM – Thanks Shraddha

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