an anger lives me but not
for whom one would think,
but for the one who is
closest to me as a result
of her treatment of me;
a resentment builds each
day inside my tiny male
mind that seems to focus
its attention on a former
friend now gone forever;
birds of a feather do not
flock together nor do they
enjoy each others company,
since the bird with whom
I live is ever so cruel to me;
time heals no wounds for me
only allows them to fester
and when my time comes to
die, I want to do it alone.
5Aug16
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