As Things Get Weirder By The Day...

As things get weirder by the day,

There’s not a tear to shed away;

Those forty winks of sleep I’ve had,

Yet not this has to make me glad;

For writing poems by the score,

Alas! They are no longer chore,

And, with mind far out to sea,

I say, my heart yearns to be free.

It wants to break away the crowd;

Show all that’s hidden under shroud.

It wants to cast away the night-

Reveal itself as tender light,

And prove to other’s questions lost

That this is more than worth the cost.

The cost of all those waking hours,

When I fought each and all their powers,

And all the times I’ve wished to say:

‘Tis not me you have to slay.

Go to those far above the top-

For it’s their rules you want to stop.’

My word they take upon their arm,

And cast across that busy farm;

As less than hope they have to kill.

I know their hearts. I know their minds. I know they will.

The End

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