Spilt Ink

From Spilt Ink

I spilt some ink last night.

Exhausted, I went to bed.

I woke up to find a poem,

and this is what it read:

 

Love your sisters and your brothers,

your neighbors, Ma and Pa.

For God, seeing your abhorrence,

could easily take them all.

 

Those words hit me hard

and definitely made me think.

I didn’t write a word of it,

I just spilt a lot of ink.

Reviews

[Marie]

Either you had a visitor or you did it in your sleep.