Consequence

Words said, miscommunicated. The sound of scorn.

Word count: 153

So it's all a joke,
On the premise of woke.
To take a leave of life,
at a pen's mere stroke.

Told a story at the fountain,
How a seed could move a mountain.
To see the one reaction
that would bring me to countin'

down the days so quickly tumbling,
and were it worth the mumbling,
to resort to midnight murmuring,
or commit a professional fumbling.

Knock knock who's there how do you know
you're listening to Mexican music so
I said it all sounds the same and,
no, it doesn't get better bro.

Well she was a he and they
said to hell with the gay
proclaim that we're all the same.
It was Monday morning, May.

I was asked to leave that very day.