As I stumbled on the pebbled road
I broke a toenail and it left bloodstains
On the humble stones.
“Why did you let me get wounded,” I asked.
A voice from behind the obsequious hills answered,
“I did not,” the voice said reassuringly.
“I desired that you take the other road, but you didn’t listen.”
I trod on. Pained.
I searched for a band to stop the bleeding.
A long black thing lay on the grass.
“Why did you allow that devil bite me?” I cried.
“I did not,” the voice uttered.
“I sent an old man to give you a handkerchief
for you to bind your broken nail but
you said you weren’t crying.”
“Why can’t you just warn me at once?”
“I tried to.”
“You did? When?"
“I called you but you thought I was your girlfriend.”