The Wild Bull

The red muleta, flutters,
calling the uncalled
fury from me.
You,
the ignorant one, think,
I charge,
because you are Red.
Let me tell you,
dear friend,
my angst is not against you.
I am color blind, you see.
For me,
You have no color.
Your good looks,
aren't my concern.
It's your movement,
that cause me unease.
You make me feel,
powerless.
So, I charge you,
guilty.
Guilty of taking,
my peace,
away.
Guilty of making,
me feel,
unworthy.
Guilty of controlling,
the unscathed,
me.
So,
I charge,
with all,
my might,
at you.
I charge,
to snatch,
the peace,
that's mine.

4 thoughts on “The Wild Bull

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s