Ill contentment drives a piston
That engages with Mellifluous ease,
On to a dowdy downward spiral.
Bang and the heat is on.
This causes more than sadness,
Or all out melancholy,
It causes nothing less, than dreadfullness.
So when the inability to dislodge such
Overtakes the mind,
The senses and motivational impetus
Are made to feel like as though the kind
Are leading the kind.
It’s a sort of “Take my hand then
And I’ll expect nothing back”
Kind of a trot out.
Evenso such a vision will not help
When life already appears to be pointed.
Buoyant spirits are the order of these days.
In these final stages on the pathway to discovery
My question is;
Are these life scars, more or less likely, to reveal
The panic issuing from the mouths of men
Who are deemed to be woolly,
Who self identify as unmentionable?
(C) 2018 Christopher Thompson