A Poem by Beverly Stock.
Treacherous words have a nasty feel and often bring a tear,
When heard by man it boils the blood and makes the temper show.
But said by friend it hits the gut and cracks our thin veneer.
Beware if said by someone close, think, is he friend or foe?
Treachery comes in many forms - contest or reverie,
A wail of spit adroitly spat incites a heckler’s brawl,
Recoils the welcome on the spot wherever you may be,
Cautiously tried to parts unknown or travel not at all.
Let’s change the focus, the suspect-love: woman, man, or beast
Don’t be fooled, a word, look, a bark or drool can mean the end
Be wary of the treacherous, as they approach to befriend
For they can be the hack that breaks a heart that never mends.
Life’s consorts can feed turmoil, for each, one must be prepared
Treat not as “best”, man or beast, but start them all out as spares.