Beware the nice guy of self repute
wearing sainthood like a cloak
atop the mask of feigned respect
for those considered likely prey
they'll gladly crush the miscreants
those who scorn the fair elegance
of a *** thought far too fragile
to stand upright against their toxic ilk

a mantra spills from slick tongues
forked while speaking calming words
a need to praise them without love
hold them safe in false respect
the rest of men are shown contempt
for the intimacy that's been withheld
heaped on others but not the pleasant
this wounded soul most would not touch

malice burns beneath the words
fueled by anger ill concealed
a hatred of those finding love
and the ones providing such
the nice guy misrepresents
a world view that seems contrite
asking grace to be granted
while damning love's true reward

we're all flawed in life's scars
the burnish gone by the years
a richness comes from old stains
met halfway when resolved
we've learned that polite is a farce
look instead to the rest
survivors that are made wise
to honeyed words in front of hate.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180417.