By: Linda M Crate

you have a way with words
like no other
piercing my heart with the silver sword
of your tongue,
and i want nothing more than to sever
the offending adam from your
mouth;
but that is not kind and i was taught to be kind
to speak kindly and if i had nothing
nice to say to keep my mouth
shut—
clearly people aren’t taught any manners
anymore because i hear the rudest things on a daily
basis, and i want nothing more
than to get vengeance
against everyone who has been rude;
if i knew magic then we’d have no customers at work
only toads
croaking sad tales of lament of how they crossed
the faerie whose fury burned brighter than the stars—
if i were a dragon then there would only
be ashes of them to remain,
and if i were a bird i would merely fly away
promising myself to claw their eyes out later because
while i believe in the magic of kindness
these people kick me when i’m down, push me
around and think me a lesser being
because of my gender or my occupation or both;
however, i hold my tongue and remain
tactful because i know my greatest revenge will be the
avalanche of success i bury them beneath
when all my dreams
begin to see the light.