Posted in Quatrain

The Rising Tide

A sadness swelling in my breast
deprives me of much needed rest.
My mind replays an endless spate
of hurtful words imbued with hate.

Hostility drips from the tongue
with venom nonchalantly flung.
If someone dares to disagree,
we scoff at such simplicity.

How easily we victimize
through rage’s aim to minimize
another person’s point of view,
while more debasing words ensue.

Though coated in a thick veneer,
unpleasant truths are crystal clear.
With ev’ry vile, demeaning post,
this growing hatred I fear most.

© Susan Schoeffield

Written for the 8/17/14 prompt at Creative Bloomings to write a poem about something we fear. NOTE: This poem was awarded a Brilliant Bloom award by Creative Bloomings on 8/23/14. I’m truly honored!

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