Rant

He cannot rant
for he is an ant
He is not a flopper
like a grasshopper

Unlike the croc
He is less with talk
His heart is elsewhere
The crocs are beware

His jumpsuit is of hare
but is a tortoise in bare
Inner peace, not very far
The tomb door always ajar

He brings to the table
always an Aesop fable

You recognize

You can recognize anger.
It is written
all over the reports.
But what about love?
No mention of it.

Stifled, yes.
That's what
one must end up as.
In death.
Not answering.
Living secretly.