Sonnet 347

An exercise in spite is doomed to shame,
A slap upon the face shall win no war;
Though words of scorn a school child may maim
‘Tis better here sagacious men ignore.
Outrageous slights are not but vanity,
Purveyors so to elevate their worth;
To be embroiled in such absurdity
Is but at best, a jester courting mirth.
It is a frailty of the human form
That passion oft prevail o’er common sense,
So when the blood of simpletons wax warm
A measured jest is oft the best defense.
For what to gain from mindless spats with fools,
The winner such bedecked by spit and drool.

©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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