To capture, nurse, and, hold,
the unfairness of it all.
The rapturous, coal-
heartedness, of Hellish
snares, beneath, the Mall.
When, afterwards, those
cauldrons, spout nightly
mares, of, bridled gall.
The captor cursed, his embold-
ened heir, is, a;
hairless toupee,
sheared, and, effortlessly, shorn.
The flesh, is, pierced,
and, punctured, by, the
blade of wickedness.
A chest, buried, by, the weir
-y, encumbered. Wreaths are
laid, by, Triffid's Bliss.
Sounds of stress, fierce,
and, repugnant, line, the
glades, of, Inner Wist.
As, the Rest, rely on tears,
while, torn asunder, cutting
their way, through, thicker mist.
The end,
much like, the start,
starts with,
a flashing in the pan.
As, the friend-
ship sunk, apart,
embarks, for Unhappiness,
with, Sad.
Send your dogged
embittered bark,
hearts hear no sorries,
in a lost, unlistened land.
And, you can't mend
a broken heart,
when broken hearts
is all we've had.
© poormansdreams
A lament to the notion of kind-heartedness.
