I’m not sure where this one came from? I was sitting in the Dallas airport for hours, finishing up some partially written haikus from years past. It evolved into a personal protest against those who will argue with anything. 

Write A Poem 

Doesn’t go my way,
I guess I’ll show ’em.
When I get upset,
I write a poem.

To put my thoughts,
Down on the page.
Clears my mind,
Of anger, even rage.

Words that rhyme,
Calm my soul.
They keep my world,
In firm control.

I try to be funny,
But life’s often not.
Sometimes my words,
Don’t mean a lot.

The power of expression,
Is a wonderful right.
You can make your point,
Without a fist fight.

I choose the pen,
As my weapon.
But have to be careful,
Where I’m steppin.’

Too far to the left,
Or way to the right.
Sometimes the vise,
Can turn too tight.

Sparks can fly,
And tempers can flare.
When everyone agrees,
It’s extremely rare.

In troubled times,
Phrases get twisted.
Battles break out,
Grievances listed.

Some get offended,
When no offense is meant.
Too many times,
A mixed message is sent.

I wish we could all,
Just get along.
But someone would say,
That this is just wrong.

Copyright 2020 johnstonwrites.com