-Immature-

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: January 30, 2013

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Submitted: January 30, 2013

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Immature

 

Agitated,

you scream.

Being berated,

I dream.

 

You vent and you think,

that only you are right,

that you are the link,

that you see the sight.

 

You think me childish,

and so you scold

the meek, the foolish.

How bold.

 

And I try to smile,

and I do not seethe.

For me you cannot rile.

And so I forgive.


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