NASTY SEEDS

Poetry is the heart cries of the one who writes the verse
Sometimes the words are demeaning...sometimes they're even worse
Sometimes they're of evil people and unforgivable deeds
In the beginning it wasn't the poet who sowed the nasty seeds

It is the nastiness of a traitor who caused the suffering of fine young men
I think she got off lightly with the words from the poets pen
Some people have no character so it cannot be demeaned
I will not defend a traitor who is just a wicked fiend

If nastiness towards a traitor reveals a heart of stone
I'll find solace in the fact I do not stand alone
I'll stand beside the heroes like the one who penned this verse
Because if these words were mine they would be a whole lot worse

When this evil wench is planted beneath the soil at last
And her evil wretched soul to hell has finally passed
I would love to contribute some fertilizer to keep her grave so green
You see... I can still be kind... to a traitor who was just plain mean.

NASTY SEEDS

©Copyright June 28, 2005 by Mary E. Rogers