Closed eyes hide steaming fury.
Muscles in shoulders tense.
Looking calm, so “what, me worry?”
Making a fist, no common sense.
Burning inside to rip your head off,
Crossing that line with a dangerous pitch,
You look behind and cautiously cough,
As you mumble to yourself, “you son of a bitch…”
Looking at me, if eyes could kill,
I would be dead in a hurry.
So, I stepped back and said to you,
“Chill, you have no reason to worry.”
Second chances come sometimes,
And I was hoping for mine now.
I would pay for all my crimes,
But did not want to know how.
“Let’s be friends,” I said with a grin.
“We don’t need to fight.”
So you relaxed, all said and done.
And these days we are tight.