Laughter, like a cruel wind,
Blows across the desert of self;
Your ability to
Soar and Fly
Raises you above me.
Your laughter mocks me,
Burrows deep to the soul,
Digging and scarring.

There you sit,
Neck craned,
A predatory vulture,
No phoenix.
There was a time
When you flew
As a friend
And protector.
Suddenly, metamorphosis,
And I hate you!

You've changed into a vulture,
But you said I had changed.
Our parting was bitter.
He who came between us
Has died,
But still you hate.
False martyr,
Egocentric bitch!
There is nothing left
To wound you now,
So you wear this nothing
As your thorny crown.

You're a misfit;
Unaccepted by the rich
Who gave you life,
Unable to tolerate the poor
Who would accept you.
You think yourself
An eagle
Or a phoenix,
But you're a vulture,
Tearing at shreds
Of the cadaver of friendship.


Revision 1 July 2000
C.P. Warner

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