a mess of a poem
May 10, 2009, 8:13 pm
Filed under: Mysteries

We’re biting back our beauty,
Doing diplomatic duty.
Sealing secrets safe from
Pious problematic prose.

It’s not easy to recognize
The men with empty wives;
Who’ve lived so long in shackles
Even they believe the lies.

And I wish it were less trouble to sort through all  the rubble,
Of hearts unhealed in the stinking silence of sick self-serving sex.

But someday we’ll embrace,
The Man who’s darkling face,
Betrays a life
Bereft of love
And buoying in bitter bottled bile.

-May 9, 2009 (jjarrett)

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