I’m only passing on the news.
Thoughts expressed are
not my views so
Any anger that ensues
Should not apply to me.
And though your ire may
be just,
It was not I betrayed
your trust, so
Take a moment to adjust
The wrath of your decree.
The winds of fate,
The sea of change,
The confluence of
circumstances uncontrolled
Are met to dance in
Fits of fruitless fantasy.
Swift purveyor, full of
youth,
Bold and brash with eyes
of ruthless irony,
Speaks only truth with
Ironclad guarantee.
And though we may not
want to hear
The missive that is
waiting there,
We need not hide our
hearts in fear
Or dare to kill the
messenger.
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