This poem is for the purveyors of darkness, those who fight to spread negativity. Those who just plain like to fight, within themselves and with others. May they find a place within themselves to fill the emptiness that erodes their chance at happiness.
Hole, your brain is lost to thought
when vapid words spring from your empty soul.
You think life is won with brutality, and it’s not.
Ironic cruelty keeps you lost to your goal.
Hole, the heart that eludes your deeds
is bound by desire to hurt.
You curse, you attack, but you’ve boarded in error
A ride deeper, where disaster will flirt.
Hole, you think you alone are fulfilled.
That matters beyond you, lie blindly in wait.
But a wanton eye only sees what it’s killed.
And a Soul that is not whole is Hole’s fate.
Hole, you sorrowfully need to gain ground
with all that positivity can bring.
Begin with the bedrock of goodness to be found
From within you, real substance can spring.