|Provided by Magpie Tales|
This is not the time
to air out our dirty laundry.
Shouldn’t have to remind you
the neighbors’ necks are already
stretched out of proportion,
trying to hear every awful word
we hurl at one another, forcefully.
Privacy fences don’t mean private
when our hate filled voices carry
through winds of broken promises,
landing on their doorsteps, shattering
the glass houses they live in.
If love ever did exist between us,
let the wind die down with gossip.
Forget who’s wrong, who’s right,
trade the anger in for silence,
just one night out of too many.
Why should they be happy
while I’m stuck inside, falling apart?
donetta sifford 1-5-2015
Written for Magpie Tales – Mag 252