An Onion article prompted this “Historic” poem.
You remember each slight, intended or not,
seizing on faults and errors you’ve caught,
mulling on other folks’ problems, so fraught,
but you don’t realize that with each angry thought,
each hate-filled judgment on what they ought not,
the more you are focused on someone’s soft spot,
the less you will see that this game of “cannot”
you play with everyone, what you have wrought
is hateful black rot, an evil blood clot on you and your lot.
And then what have you got?
Poetic Asides Poem-a-Day challenge, April 23, 2015.