Despondent
drifters
Pause on the reefs of regret
To await high tide.
Pause on the reefs of regret
To await high tide.
As the
meekest dream,
The moon
invites the boldest
To survey
the night.
Lured by the
slick pitch,
A bluff
canting brisk returns,
Greed
assumes all risk.
Dying of
boredom…
Sickened by
monotony…
Desperate
for a cure.
Brooding is
feeble.
Though it
longs for the wishbone,
It tugs with
no spine.
Never a sure
bet,
Luck presents
tempting long shots
But no
guarantees.
Walking on
eggshells
Puts
sensitive soles at risk
For irritation.
Once
germinated,
Intrusive
weeds grow thirsty
And quite
tenacious.
As a
cover-up,
the fabric
of pride stretches,
but only so
far.
To provide
rescue,
A
magnanimous gesture
With
modest rewards.
Even bad
apples
Contain dark
seeds predestined
To grow in
like form.
A sensitive
cow
resents the
callow butcher
manhandling her flesh.
Strict
deprivation:
the ultimate
pathway to
overindulgence.
Though
trouble smolders,
sparks of
dread ignite to stoke
burning
addictions.
