I do not love

the period,

which only chooses

to force an ending,

nor the question mark,

which yields no answers,

or the exclamation point,

shrieking for attention

like a spoiled child.

The comma always wants more.

The semi-colon thinks

too highly of itself.

The apostrophe wants to replace

what was lost

but cannot manage it,

and the hyphen doesn’t care what I do,

as long as I keep going.

Instead, let me be enfolded

by the comforting embrace

of the parentheses,

who shelter each addendum

like a beloved sister,

in warmth and silence and peace.