JOKE - Blogtober 2020

Joke

"Fie, maggots!" you'd say to us with disdain

Cut from a long line of maladaptives

Family humor was radioactive

Your words still soil my soul like a bloodstain

Passive aggressive just yanking my chain 

Unsubtle vindictiveness most active

A fine art to us but unattractive

Wounded man compassion you could not feign

Solace would come my true love rescued me

Years of prodding sincerity would heal

A perfect fit like a fine suit bespoke

Not passing off insults something funny

At the feet of abuse no longer kneel

Overcame can finally take a joke

--Shenandoah Lynd

(a Petrarchan sonnet)