Stalking (sick sods walking)

Again there are words
That bask in the dark
In obtuseness really
They make their mark
Unconcerned for the calmness
That they breach
The conscious world
That they infact do reach

Touched to the quick
And so aware
Of unwanted looks
Of the stagnant stare
Of the constant
Dark economy
That pervades
One’s sensibility

Its a waking nightmare
Afterall
Anguish and angst
That is there to call
Out one’s
Honourable bower of bliss
One’s honest freedom
The softest kiss
Of emotion draining
Darkly away
That steals the joy
Out of each day

It is damnation
It is dismay
Heavy-laden
Walking away
Victimized by the
Constant glare
Careworn and woeful
Just Being there

The ugly ones
Engulfed in ill
Who abuse and bait
Who beseige and spill
Their festering vileness
Into your space
Who injure and cause
A loss of face
Who quietly haunt
Who harass and provoke
And invade our soul
And basically
Think they control

They remind us of our misery
Of our cheerless joyless symphony
They intimidate with their
Worthless lies
With their moody sulky
Evil eyes
How ever hard it appears
To be
We must quietly
Fight back joyfully

Radiate and be divine
With probity we countersign
Their fear that they operate within
Their phobias under the skin
With conviction, we can be
Ahead in time and again free
They cower and cringe
With backbones bent
Their panic buttons all but spent
Their audacity its bursting through
Their indiscretions
Clueless to

They know not of
True wonderment
Their irreverence
And blankness sent
Their comedown
Happening damagingly
They have no standing
Actually

Their self-importance
Brings them down
In their own sputum
They will drown
Their puffed up chests
Their self-conceit
And absurd pretensions
Rule their street

But never ours my dears