They inject me with their nasty venom
That burns like hell, forcing me down to my knees
Begging for mercy, dejected, and forlorn.
Their sleazy informants attack out of the blue
Armed to the teeth with unreliable clues
To warrant their hostile takeovers
Hoping to catch me wholly unprepared
To cope with their inflicted despair.
Why are you targeting me?
What have I done to you?
I am not the ugliness you project on me.
No dark secrets are locked in my closet.
Why obsessively cling to a shadow reality
—A wobbly house of straw?
Why pronounce me guilty against all reasonable doubt
When there is not one shred of evidence
Disproving my maintained innocence?
Suspicions proliferate in the underworld,
Seeding it with their malice.
They put a damper on my mood,
Placing me under a strict gag order,
While driving a sharp knife in my heart.
I cannot stand their pestilence.
I yearn for comforting sun-rays,
And crave the saving grace of breaths of fresh air.
Anyas Spencer, Medford, Oregon, June 20,2019