She was wise enough to not trust a poet.
He was foolish enough to act like one.
She left words as a parting gift.
Two words. Take care.
The poet could never open the gift.
He now roams weaving lies from words.
He throws them into the hearts of women.
He then leaves as soon as a poem is written.
Neal Ym (Phalguni Y)
April 7, 2017