The Indulgence
Like being in the right place, at least;
Like being in the wrong mood, at most;
Moving with determinism like a beast,
Approaching a prey to make a feast,
Coopted, its an indulgence
Like a tree planted across the river,
With the cold, it does not shiver,
The flowers, the fruits it deliver,
The seasons, the leaves it recover,
Corelated, its the indulgence
Moving with the wind, suspension
Slowing in speed, reaction,
Its a dilemma indeed, temptation
It was yellow then red, variation
Cooperation, its the indulgence
Was it painting pictures on walls,
Or maybe picturing paints on walls,
Some called it pronounced casuality,
Others said a denounced formality,
A smooth perfidy of reality,
Conglomeration, its the indulgence
poem by Gaylord Munemo
Added by Poetry Lover
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