Isn’t It Odd?

A poem.

Each trick they play we learn their way That only weak minds fade away Batting words to hit a target they care less for I say these players will deplore their act

As it combats the expectancy of intended damage They may have missed, but I’ve caught the message Of them not knowing their throw comes from the heart Self-projected cork they suffer from to then bark

Unknowingly casting dispersions they believe to be true to you When in fact, all they spit lies within their truth So we must not fret for what we hear All that triggers should not be feared

And I know it seems too easy to adhere to this advice But it’s even easier to believe their device So work hard to know that you’re worth more than oddities abound Difficulty will trouble when it knows you’re light is soon found

Now open your mind and consider what’s right Isn’t it odd… that it’s the word we throw on uneasy grounds in spite? That it’s the word we throw yet never caught? Playing for conceit under petty facades?

I believe that quite odd… playing God