Shake Hands With the Accuser

Each corner of the world is a place to make good,
And it seems through these eyes many walls are meeting.
If all these encounters carried out as they should
There would be no discord, no two sides competing.
Congeniality is my cross to bear
When reciprocation is skin deep.
It requires a most particular flair
To people-please without looking cheap,
Yet I manage for the greater good,
Withstanding that murky gloom
That comes when one is misunderstood.
I breathe deep, enter the room,
Bite my lip, shake hands with the accuser -
I make the choice to schmooze my abuser.

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