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Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Those Synonymous Opposites....

Is it just a feeling or is it more?

Dragging along, finally sore?

Sticky, tired, dirty and bored,

Yet, he surely had me floored.

How does he do it, remains unknown,

Seeds of pure hatred have been sown,

Flew, Flow, Flown, Fly farther and away,

Yet, my head would spin and my feet sway.

As he rattled on some knowledge unquestioned,

His ego slowly flared up and soon bludgeoned,

Along with a fat belly, making of a fine busy bee,

Nope, try as you may you definitely cannot not see.

Outlets you ask for but there aren't any faucets there,

Hence, it gets bottled up and stuck in the old ware.

To open it, you shouldn't have dared,

Because now, hidden anger flared,

Like the wraths of enormous winds,

Its a war that ultimately wins.

The deal is to repair the losses caused,

To push away the flow that has paused,

A strong, silly and senseless bond of love,

Its a steep downfall in the steadily growing curve.

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