I’m rude and abrupt, I speak without grace,
A walking tornado wearing hate as a face.
Pleasantries avoid me, I chase them away,
But I’m fully justified in my own twisted way.
I don’t do “friendly”, I don’t do “socials”,
I don’t do meet-ups, catch-ups or phone calls,
I don’t do life well, I don’t even do happy,
This tornado of mine protects and entraps me.
~Poet of Ephraim