Thursday, December 26, 2019

Footstool.

Bring on the shade.

Bring on the backlash.

Bring on sideward sneers.

Bring on whispers.

Bring on eye rolls.

Bring on the deep sighs.

Bring on all the ridicule.

Bring on the shaming.

Bring on the blaming.

All things  hold no meaning for me my friend.

For I know a place the table is being prepared for me.

Talk about me behind my back while my king blesses me before your eyes.

All the mud your slinging won't stop me... but it makes you feel better go ahead and try.

hallzies poetry corner: Poetry with a passion. Poetry for all occasions.™
HLH © 12/26/19 

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