Hexagon flies flitting,
cool, damp night, simply sitting.
Head spinning from week’s drama,
while I worry about my next comma.
Mr. Coffee pot reminds me of the hot water awaiting to be used,
I’m still thinking of some of their words, rather confused.
She called me a “sacrificial lamb,”
that was kind and all part of the great master plan.
I just hate that we run the purge the way we do,
it fills me with anxiety and rotting rue.
We pay the price of losing a positive reputation,
when there is constipated logic, or of reason, there is complete cessation.
About the Creator
Rowan Finley
Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
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Comments (5)
Were you bombarded with poems today? 😆 Great job with this one too. Did you use Mr. Coffee then?
Sounds more like a needed "scapegoat" to me~ A sacrificed lamb would erase all of the rot and rue... but sometimes we have to just armor up against a "cancerous" chaos inflicted by others..
The “sacrificial lamb” line really stands out—it’s like you’re caught in something bigger than you. Very relatable, with a dash of mystery and depth! ✨
Gripping! Great work! Well done! I salute you! Wonderful’!
Powerful...