Wednesday, July 8, 2015

A Siren's Lament

Grasping at the smoke
that clouds my addled mind
Drifting away
Like lovers 
and opportunities
Foaming at the mouth,
Aimless forever,
Ageless with time,
No way out 
A labyrinth 
of my own construction
And I am the Minotaur
Grotesque twisted patchwork  
Understood by none 
and liked by less
Wailing with regret 
Yet half the squandered moments
were never mine to waste 
But the sting sings the same
tired tune every day
Regardless of my good intentions 
the noose ever waits
Hanging on bated breath
and hanging from every word
Breathed from your straight-laced mouth
Surprised a gasp ever gets out
Patience ever plagues us
And a Roman candle 
Doesn't mix well with
the picture of temperance 
Yet I am a brushfire
Cannot contain with words
Nor good sense,
And you couldn't 
tame me if you tried,
But you know you would never
want any less.