Sound and fury, signifying nothing
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
No role might I play in the gray of this day
That would be better suited
Than to stand 'gainst the tide, miles wide, tongues that chide,
My feet firmly rooted.
To belabor my neighbor will earn me no favor.
Already we've feuded.
Eyes moist, lonesome voice, left no choice,
But speak out, to be hooted.
My words, now absurd, someday will be heard,
As treatise of Euclid.
Desolate scrawl on the wall says it all:
"time is fluid"
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Raison d'être: Angst
Beautiful rhyme brother. It flows effortlessly.
You are gifted for sho'.
September 22, 2010 at 9:54 AM
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