An Ass

First things first. An ass is a donkey...and I love donkeys. Just thought I needed to get that said.

Right, now back to your poem. You are like this Greg because you are a good person. You care. You are the sort of person that friends rely on. I am honoured to be able to call you my friend. Unfortunately, the broken can bite...and they bite the hand that feeds. And good people get hurt twice in one go...hurt because the bite is painful and hurt because all the stuff flying back in the face bruises like hell. When an ass gets injured it is inclined to kick, doesnt mean it's a bad ass ?  Love you, my friend x

Hey Greg, 
Nice write, my friend. 
I don't understand this world, and why people are like they are. Doesn't it feel better to make incredibly nice people feel good about themselves, rather than lie, and play on their sympathies, and hurt them? I'm so disillusioned by so many people in this world. Sometimes it's hard to believe. 
There are some good ones, though, like yourself, and some of the wonderful people who have commented above. I just wish more people could be like that. Mad world, I suppose. 
Great write, though, donkeys don't need to be called out, but asses do. 

Thanks, 
Matthew.