In search of a new aesthetic,
I’m waxing a wanning poetic.
The ups and downs prophetic,
the results sometimes pathetic.
~
The sun has now fully risen,
I’m trapped in my mind’s own prison.
Bound to a rickety mizzen,
today’s breeze has yet arisen.
~
In blissful times I long to be,
up in the clouds I feel free.
On earth I’m just another me,
sink or swim’s the rule of the sea.
~
But rules were meant to be broken,
this cliché’s this breaker’s token.
Pathetic penning awoken,
though words are louder when spoken.
~
So, I’ll scream all day if I must,
options usually boom or bust.
Passion is both love and lust,
poetry is and sometimes just.

~*~
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