I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
When assassins fail Lives can be profoundly changed Or simply go on
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Poets
To be a perpetual spectator Reclining into judgmental boredom As the nervous, bashful sun grows brighter Seems an ugly squandering of freedom
Beware the vile joy Ecstatic and contagious Of a hatred shared
The light does not need to be understood It does not require your forgiveness It washes everything, evil and good It is indifferent to your business
The real problem we face, my darling Is that I'm a dying, old fool And unfortunately, you Love me, despite those facts
Do not mistake resting for laziness A human being is no mere machine Given contemporary craziness From peaceful repose, we have much to glean
The edible soul Of summer, concentrated Into sweet, dark worlds
The finest drama Seems just like reality Unlike boring life ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Behind the proud mask of heroism War is only the rotten maw of death Brooking no question or criticism From the lungs of the skeptic, it gulps breath
Summer evenings Are apologies for the Insults of winter
As banal, waking life loses its charm And the horizon of being draws near The domain of dreams seems a more fertile farm
A patina is fragile by nature With some abrasion, it quickly dissolves; When the tiger is revealed as paper The revelation the patsy absolves
