Art Of War
Poem By Chanze Nembhard
I feel every cut that you inflict - purposefully.
Though it was anticipated, the feeling is different.
It even smells different,
Seeming somewhat premeditated
That you would use your military tactics
To unlawfully invade my serenity.
Like trout caught in a fishing net
I fall for the bait every time
Is it that easy to appease me?
Please! I need answers.
If I am not your cup of tea
Tell me which of that you prefer
And it would be my duty to make sure it occurs
For I may not be your cup of tea,
But to those who are actually worthy,
a sparkling glass of champagne I am
Maybe it's time trickster turn connoisseur
As everyone knows, the good and gracious always fall on the demure…