You’ve No Power Here
The glass misted over,
But that’s not entirely right
It was a more liquid remorse
That bedewed my lensed sight
She had borne my child
But she couldn’t bear me
Seems 8-balls and feng shui
Aren’t long together friends-to-be
Another dark winter passing
Cold fronts, love chill, and lost friends—
In the negative balance amassing:
All aspiration to the living Nature bends
Where is our Episode IV New Hope,
In reconciliation or masked medicines?
A new maturity is whispered for and called upon—
Can we but rise up above all these civil venal sins?
Digital Sith and Jedi return to the nursery;
All illusion is dead, what’s to become of me?
Posted on November 1, 2021, in Poem and tagged 8-balls (cocaine), civil wrongs, cold, face adulthood, feng shui, future in question, grow up, Jedi, loss, love ends, Love lost, maturity, New Hope, politics, put away the child, Reconciliation Bill for Infrastructure, remorse, Sith, the Dark Side, winter. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
Kitt
pueriles 