The mote of dust
(this precious gift)
on which we drift
is fraught with lust
for selfish ends
(as it careens)
despite the means
or who pretends
they do no wrong,
(well don't we all?)
dismiss The Fall
to say we're strong
but that's an act
(a deadpan shtick)
to hide we're sick
and that's the fact
this role we play
(within the farce)
is so damn sparse
we're swept away.
9 comments:
deep.
powerful,
the wrong says no to the upright,
when things turn around,
the audience gets upset.
in the end, nothing is true.
Thanks and yes Anne, you summed it up well.
powerful emotions.
it seems like the words speak of unspoken wishes.
God bless.
stay put or sail free.
that's your option.
best regards.
powerful talent.
yummy poetry.
wise talent.
Thanks for the great comments!!!
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