Elevenses

Waking from a dopey sleep
Hoping any thoughts I keep
Today are not another's wishes
I pray be unfulfilled-
But my own censure
Of confessions i've spilled

To friends i've culled
In labour, love, on locale-
Our bond's to be annulled
On grounds of rationale.

Oh! The fickle nature of relationships,
The searing need for others.
The ones you toil,
The ones you spoil.

by Eoghan Finn

Other poems of FINN (8)

Comments (2)

Rigorously controlled and paced throughout without losing any of it's impetus, quite stunning.
As impressive a poem as I've read on this site for awhile