Nor the Ink on this Page

It is better to remain silent,
in the presence of idiots.
Their shallowness and egocentrisms,
are enough to give you paroxysms.

It is better to remain unheard,
lest your words be falsely twisted.
Your personal admissions are fodder for pigs,
to unjustly vomit.

It's better to share,
what doesn't matter,
lest it be shared, used to belittle, threaten,
or just blither blather.

It is better to see them, for who they are,
lower than serpents, crawling through dirt.
Keeping aloof and above all that muck.
Letting them drown, in their self-righteousness.

Never speaking the revealing truths,
that they've crossed the line and hurt you.
Releasing the anger into the ink on this page,
than to tear yourself down in a thunder-struck rage.

How many more idiots will it take before the fire consumes?
When your true thoughts and expectations surface to fight.
When you roar, "Enough! Fool! Look to yourself!"
Quick to judge and call foul names, to ears that have never been so abased.

How dare you use my personal life to unjustly accuse, to make yourself feel better?
How dare you use such vile language,
because 'you' think you've been sorely used.
Your past clouding the present and wholly misjudging.

You have no idea what it's like to put up with morons like you,
who don't know the value of others.
You don't realize that just because you've been hurt in the past,
you've no right to inflict such pain on someone else.

And it's here, after crossing the line,
that you find yourself bereft of friends and family.
Too obtuse to realize the loss
or the cause.

And now my anger is spent.
I've done what I do best,
put my words and wit,
to the test.

I will not stoop to the level of trolls,
or call you out to reveal your shame.
It is not my goal to hurt anyone, even
*holes who blame.

For I realize that all humans are fragile and fraught
with childish stupidity.
Prone to scratching and caterwauling like mangy animals,
if they feel minutely slighted or self-justified.

So, if I do not share my life details,
my treasure and foibles to strangers,
it's because I am cautious and slow to trust,
I don't provide bread to be thrown in the mud.

I think, I'll let you wallow alone.
You're not worth my time,
my breath, or my fire,
nor the ink on this page.




*apologies for word, but it was 'supplied' by a troll.