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I hear you**
When you crib about me not being able to hear properly
I don’t hear you
When you shout and scream in order to be ‘audible’ but when while walking away you mumble stale words
I hear those
I hear you
When your face’s mercurial behavior moulds into a scowl
I hear it.

I hear your sighs.
I hear you complaining
I hear everything,yet nothing
I hear  nothing but things that *****
but that’s how human nature is,isn’t it?
Life may not go as planned;
the worst kind of fool extrapolates
from a heap of thwarted expectations:
"Life is over because I'm upset!"

Emotions out of control, roiling,
demarcate that which in human is animal;
the worst kind of fool loudly insists,
"Life should gratify my ego!"

Disappointment becomes license,
a weak excuse for calamitous disregard;
the worst kind of fool dares to think,
"Others are responsible for my actions."

Cowardice thrives in this heath of weeds.
The worst kind of fool gives up early,
quick to resume safe, familiar weaknesses:
"I should never have dared to try."

Wallowing loves abundant company,
the likewise-dead who disavow all power.
The worst kind of fool supports other fools:
"We are special; this world is against us."

Self-absorption and delusions of grandeur
conspiring with fashionable self-derogation.
The worst kind of fool achieves impossible vampirism.
"Value me; reassure me; therein I feed."
The stink of entitled vermin.
she laid her eyes on me like twin regrets
her face was full of the dark hours
full of graveyards of her truths once held so high
now she stumbles in the hasty shadows of
storms riding the coastal highway
in the company of men who had
seen brighter days of their own
they break off a piece of stale bread and pass on the difference
all with an eye to the gathering rain
all with an eye to the long road
i stood near to her
and we spoke a few words before fate could drag her off
her words were plain
but behind you could see the rich tapestry
of what could have been
a life wrenched from its true line
to follow the coastal highway
to follow the setting sun
they break stale bread and pass the difference on
 Jul 2014 Silvia G
Simon Obirek
today i wrote a masterpiece
but for a status update on Facebook.
 Jul 2014 Silvia G
Liam
a sincere wish that, as each morning breaks, we mend
...a ten word bedtime story...

— The End —