A Small Scratch

scratched my car,
a Communist, no less
or, an Anarchist,
up to no good, envious
for the likes of the rest
of us,
or, someone who was jealous
of my wife, a scorned lover
someone who desired me,
but was rejected, a scratch
a slight inconvenience to others
a wound on my pride,
Someone, who didn’t like how
my bread was buttered, or how
my dog lifted his leg on their lawn
Someone, who couldn’t accept
how someone like me,
would be upset, by such a trifle
Someone who lacked any morals
and couldn’t adjust to the life
the rest of us led,
Someone who would go
to any lengths to show the world
that people like me,
weren’t allowed to own
such beauty, possess love
and the grace of God,
Discounting the possibility
of driving too close to the side
the side of the road with the branches
so evilly dragging their claws
into someone’s car, like mine,
Communists and Anarchists
whose lack of regard for planting
their spiny bushes too close for comfort
where people like me, not paying
any attention to their heinous ways,
drove his car too close to their evil,

Just an unfortunate, hunted, persecuted someone, like me…


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