Isn’t It Odd?
A poem.
Each trick they play we learn their way
That only weak minds fade away
Batting words to hit a target they care less for
I say these players will deplore their act
As it combats the expectancy of intended damage
They may have missed, but I’ve caught the message
Of them not knowing their throw comes from the heart
Self-projected cork they suffer from to then bark
Unknowingly casting dispersions they believe to be true to you
When in fact, all they spit lies within their truth
So we must not fret for what we hear
All that triggers should not be feared
And I know it seems too easy to adhere to this advice
But it’s even easier to believe their device
So work hard to know that you’re worth more than oddities abound
Difficulty will trouble when it knows you’re light is soon found
Now open your mind and consider what’s right
Isn’t it odd… that it’s the word we throw on uneasy grounds in spite?
That it’s the word we throw yet never caught?
Playing for conceit under petty facades?
I believe that quite odd… playing God
