Be the [d]river, not the [d]riven

When you lose your rag

and grand your voice

and toy with oh so debatable 

mad, and 

you refuse to stand firm

and then your life

takes a horrible 

turn and a curse 

for the worse,

and you gently begin

to reflect on toxicity,

and you realise you do share 

some of the 

blame now;

and how you don’t want to continue

being so sad, 

nor saying cruel things

about people 

who actually 

do want to help,

and it really would be grand,

and when visiting and 

speaking and talking is 

so good for you,

and loving and listening 

and doing cool stuff,

then you know

it is time to announce to the world

you must now be quite free

to be with

people you wish:

no questions gnawed 

gruesome;

no twosome any more 

which ain’t love as you desire: 

a love this on fire!

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