A POEM
A Ruing Thickness In The Air
To Quench Apprehensive Defeat, One Fronts It Louder In The Face, Before The Slim Victories Come
Defeat comes, before all else- No wit, no story, all despair; An overt caring, for such ire, To what end, if he doesn’t come
Nostalgia bridges a ruing croft Overall Palisades of the humane Tendency to a placated suicide, When no affair is courted
Ceasing a royalty to do the deed, Whence it all becomes to be; Tatted and ruined, in the evenings Dare — heeding all to advantage
They flash their smiles, to battle- An abidance, believing they can Understand, the tallied word; What dare — what dupe could?
Defeat comes, to all before Chagrining the behooved one, Laughing hysterics till a-dawn comes To rejuvenate the lasting tide of night
A Ruing Thickness In The Air, Breeds the content for a rifling Sickness, that buds all eager Spirits, faithfully, to their quarters
They come sprinting with great Smiles, and tenderness of Marrowed hearts, to the pillar, Of their recently learned philosophy
Little could the pitching content Last through the amorous night Of knowledge, that erases all Juvenile hope, that comes afield
Resting ever tediously so comes The lyric of a foolish perceiver Lasting until it is no longer afraid And frail, comes the rue of days.
Ever yours; The Doctor [Adams]
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©Joanie Adams — Joanie Adams; Gift A Tea: https://ko-fi.com/joanieadamms
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