Tend to the tension in your tense and terse relationships,

Mend your tendention if you want to stand a chance,

Resist your sententious clucking, hands resting upon your hips,

Your censure is a weeping boil, so extend your Lance.

 

Pretend your intention is to tilt us all towards the light,

Contend every mention that your voice came from the dark,

Just Tweet little bird 'cos ten thousand more confirm you're right,

Judgement to the power of ten, even though it's stark.

 

Abandon the pretension that screaming words into the night,

Has ever eased the tension of those that scream them back,

Admit your intention is, you need the world to say you're right,

So Tweet over the jaws of hell while your words extend the crack.

 

Extend a hand of friendship to those around who need you most,

Listen twice as hard, though it might be seen as meek,

Tension is the venom that they Tweet with each tendentious post,

So don't Twitter like a little bird, when you intend to speak.