Your friend has betrayed you,
You can’t know for certain,
You need to ask, but don’t want the answer.
You think of all you have shared together,
And confront them, telling them you know,
Hoping with everything you have,
that it is a misunderstanding,
they were somehow coerced,
But your friend looks at you and smiles,
No, smirks
And somehow, some way,
That makes it so much worse.
The lies are ready on your lips, practiced, you done this a thousand times, but you falter. You falter and shatter the illusion of truth.
Revolutions are bathed in blood,
In death, betrayals, and cruelty.
Yet, we often associate them with freedom,
The oppressed rising against the oppressors.
You trace the ridges of the flower.
The sole daisy in this field.
A dot of yellow against a vibrant green.
Your toes burrow in the dirt.
The soil covering your feet.
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