Conflict. It burrows in my concrete heart, aching, fighting. It is daily, the daily conflict, I am ten-fold to my opponent. I might as well not fight back... And let the calamity dissolve. But most of the time I am the engineer. My opponent strikes, then it is my decision. Retaliate? Or not? Retaliate? Or not? Retaliate? Or Not? I take pride in the latter... But sometimes the conflict digs to deep, and I fight.
A terrible trade off, no more rage for me, but a hurt soul for another. Physicaly, mentaly, all of the above. It hurts, hurts like a b*tch. Hurts them, and makes it's way to me...
"Why did I do that?"
"Would you like it if someone did that to you?"
"Why would you do that to someone smaller than you? To someone who is defenseless...Why?"
They can hit you all they want. It is best not to fight, let them do the job. It hurts me to see others hurt. It really does. Now excuse me while I go cop a plea.
A terrible trade off, no more rage for me, but a hurt soul for another. Physicaly, mentaly, all of the above. It hurts, hurts like a b*tch. Hurts them, and makes it's way to me...
"Why did I do that?"
"Would you like it if someone did that to you?"
"Why would you do that to someone smaller than you? To someone who is defenseless...Why?"
They can hit you all they want. It is best not to fight, let them do the job. It hurts me to see others hurt. It really does. Now excuse me while I go cop a plea.
man all ur entries sound like poems
ReplyDeletegreat writing big guy
ReplyDeleteed