Balcony Musing Oct 2/22

 

I have no faith in people,

Hearts of gold, but palms are cold.

Here we live, but hold that shiv!

No one see the face of the back stabber.

Shrouded in blue, stuck like glue.

Time to pull away the tangles of childish minds.

Weave those threads into the tapestry of tribulation;

Trim those lose ends, they aren't friends.

Hang the tapestry on the wall with pride,

They gave up, you survived.

Dumaurier