Banquet For A Kill Joy

Yearnings unexplored
By dint of habit
Can become such cruel entrapment

To struggle from this abyss?

You may redirect your fate
And of the problem state:

To vagueness give face,
To age, measure and name...
Count on your five or so senses

As it so seems

Else be content-with it
To be a mole that dreams-mole dreams

by Nellie Isabelle Steward Cooper

Comments (1)

Isabelle I love the direct approach of this poem. It takes some courage to lay it on the line, but there are times when the situation calls for nothing less.