Often I gave away advice like a tender
Gift I don't take/give to myself,
Feet ache again after walking
A girl sitting by the food court waiting
Watching, thinking
The feeling of being judge is no new
Feeling it's common as the whispers
Is not so screet
But they don't know you, her, or me,
So let assumptions assassinate those
gossips, those opinions, then maybe
a flying, Middle finger post as a bird
Would fall into the palm of said hands,
Red straw in the green grass the green is
ok the red straw is not its a negative
that thinks it belong there,
I should be appreciating the greenery
Around me but the red straw is
unavoidable and cross the
Road from the red straw is three cats
Sitting on the Owners porch,
Looking, oberserving, telling but I can't
See what they seem to see.
-ashespoetry
