How quickly the surrounding light dims
when they look you in the eye
to vent, at long last,
their hatred of you,
having first paved your way with
lies and degrading sentiments
to all who would listen
and believe,
flinging the froth
of their rabid madness
in every direction,
teaching all who watch them
to adhere to this very treatment
of you
(o nightmare of nightmares,
by which they maul your heart),
their words like ice picks
and old rusty nails
puncturing flesh,
while their hired hand,
with silence and pursed lips,
presumes to judge,
pushing you out
by force of
closing door.
