You wear a fool’s cap when you curse the wind
The wind blows ill, or fair across our days
Our footslog to kismet we must transcend
My youth’s pluck wasted a thousand ways
I groveled to my grievous pious waste
A wanton idol had consumed my prime
Resentment and chagrin I did embrace
But life proceeds benignly through our time
Not judging my excess and quite aloof
My fate, if real, could never be random
but oft resulting from a nil reproof
Restraint and pardon must e'er be tandem
To curse the wind is playing to your pride
Conceit fed outrage hubris til it died
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Author:
George (My real name) (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 14th, 2017 09:39
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 61
Offline)
Comments1
Both form and content so sagacious in this arresting verse - that first line did it for me George - a gem of a read.
Thank you Fay and thanks also for the friend invitation. I am humbled.
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