Bottled thoughts

He starts screaming insanely
and who does he blame,
not on your nelly
I won’t be your fall guy.

What begins as a grimace
on a once quiet serene face
turns into
the thing you don’t know
you don’t know you don’t know it
until his face starts to show it
by then it’s too late.

that is he and I
or him and me
or just we for short
are caught in the strands
of misunderstandings
and are always at war.

© 2020, John Smallshaw.