MY SILLY JOKES AND HER ANGER

My Silly Jokes and Her Anger



My tongue, a foolish jester’s play,
Flings jokes that wander, far astray.
Each word a spark, a flame unplanned,
Igniting tempests in her hand.

Her brows a storm, her eyes a blaze,
My laughter caught in fiery haze.
The walls now echo her sharp retorts,
While I retreat to safer ports.

But oh, the charm of her furrowed brow,
A masterpiece of anger now.
Her fury dances, wild and free,
A tempest born because of me.

Yet when the storm begins to fade,
Her laughter slips through cracks I’ve made.
And in her smile, I find my way,
To jest again another day.

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