A New Schnikism: (Poetry Series) Facing the Firing Squad

They took their aim,

With their pointed judgement.

Their faces of scorn,

Eyes with blank stares,

While they all laughed,

At the subject of their jokes,

While I tried to remain,

Loving and calm,

To project the heart’s greatest power.

I watched as many,

Themselves turned sour,

Compassion evaporated,

My tongue eviscerated,

Where I have bruised,

Those I have used,

Many apologies have been used,

Left me wondering,

Why I am the only one affected,

When hurt and pain is subjected?

Where I’ve been neglected?

Left in chaos, reflected.

This war of intention,

Is beyond comprehension,

With endless tension,

And constant apprehension,

Day after day extension,

We are not to mention.

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