Spitting nails ‘cause I’ve found my groove.
Zip’s what I no longer need prove.
Annoyed by doubled down commit.
Affronted by incessant wit.
Jealous, leering, eyes scraping by.
Bitterly cold in mid-July.
Averting darting unheld gaze.
Afraid to learn what silence says.
Digging in heels like a teen girl.
Defy the reason of the world.
Childish lapses in judgement grave.
Entitled to what others save.
These are not a realist’s traits.
These traits are greed…& keeping gates.

