, , , , ,

The makings of the most gentle
The makings of the once kind
Is what makes my energy no less simple
Nor does it make my words less kind
I held in my hands
An Apple that was ripe enough to eat
But it wasn’t to her liking
I’m just tired of fighting
Reinforced my Windows, her words not inviting.
Now the makings of the most kind
Is the reason my energy is high
Hoping to have her thoughts
Nonetheless undefined

Jay G