My relevance as someone who
continues on without a clue
could easily be likened to
a sightless man describing blue,
for how can one that’s truly blind
express their convoluted mind
with imagery of any kind
that isn’t shoddily designed—
but metaphors are all I’ve got
to help remediate my lot
so doggedly I sit and jot
a paradox within the plot
whose premises are crudely built
from sacrificial juices spilt
when hands of over-zealous guilt
manipulate the jutting hilt.
4 comments:
the first stanza definitely got my attention. bravo!
You possess some of the finest metaphors I've read, Bob. Sacrifices seem to go unoticed, especially by the martyr, but not so for the masses!
Hi brian, thanks a lot.
Hey dan, thanks to you as well.
You guys rock!!
this far this is my favorite... blue....the first stanza is brilliant....
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