17/06/2026

 17/06/2026, Wednesday

9:30 p.m.

-

A dagger draped in silk still makes one bleed

And a wolf if the guise of a sheep still bites.

So really, when handed a poisoned chalice,

Does it matter whether it was done out of malice?

Where would you direct your sorrow, your pain

When you know you'll only be met with disdain

From every mouth, including your own;

Since you know you've aged, yet why haven't you grown? 

I ought to hold my tongue, clamp up, and swallow my words-

Only smile and nod, though it's utterly absurd. 

Maintaining peace and grace; what does it matter

When those filled with contempt won't cease their chatter?

Their mocking words never cease, but compose a cacophony. 

At best, they consist of mere superficial sympathy.

And yet, I realise these feelings will do me no good.

Hence I might as well quiet down, grit my teeth, and smile as I should.

ᝰ.ᐟ