For several times now, it seems that I have to pass.
From your urgent requests,which you all casually take to be simple.
I’ve stuffed each of your arrogance into my empty pockets,
For me, not to keep or build,but to bury them down like my torn exam papers.Giving in to your roaring desireswould scrape my dignity.I have to cut you all out, be bold,and watch you all jolt while I say,
“No, I wouldn’t like to have dinner with you.Or watch a movie or drink coffee, now, tomorrow, not ever.”
Poem inspired by these words from Sunday Swirl

More poems here: `Fiercer Bait