Envy
You have it backward.
I don’t want
what you have.
I am not the weed
coveting the flower.
I will never bloom.
I am salt to your soil,
so nothing grows.
I am the baby cut in two,
so there is no mother.
Why smile
when I can remove
your grin with sandpaper.
You have it backward.
I don’t want
what you have.
I am not the weed
coveting the flower.
I will never bloom.
I am salt to your soil,
so nothing grows.
I am the baby cut in two,
so there is no mother.
Why smile
when I can remove
your grin with sandpaper.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson