Mockery

They thrive on it. It feeds their worth. It riles them up. They bleed; no mirth. Shape, colour, Accent, birth. In matters of laughter There’s no dearth. Once, a joke, Thence, a poke. Amidst the folk, In shame, you soak. But shades emerge From a plain verge. So make your own, Slights that are thrown.Continue reading “Mockery”