I had a friend
whom I can only faintly remember
he used to say
that if he were a writer
he would put all his enemies
into a zombie novel
so they could all die
a painful death
it made me wonder
where should I put my enemies
if I am writing a poem
then I remembered
oh
I have neither friends nor foes
all I am afraid of
are people carrying negative energy
the kind
that makes my battery low
even though I was bullied
and humiliated in the past
I can only place those souls
on lotus leaves
letting them show me
how deep the pond was
holding grudges against them
would be like jumping into that pond
with a huge splash
only to drown
in my own ego
I would rather show them
that I have been carrying
those memories
the bitter ones
the sour ones
trying to turn them
into something beautiful
practising kindness
practising compassion
and still
if they answer me
with their sharp beaks
if they pretend
they have forgotten
the moments they served me
I will not mind
for them
my poetic lines
will always remain kind
my hands are still open
ready for a handshake
ready for a hug
but if they arrive
carrying the same bad energy
my poetry for them
will be nothing
but a bug
just a bug
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