Quagmire
Mind rumpus; thoughts viscous; words pause
Vicious vagueness vituperates
Poesy prowls; never in poise!
Demurs to egress with prowess
Ticklish process it is, to pick
One thick globule of slick morass
That abounds our social precincts
It’s like opt’ng the best of the worst
Then ensues my usual address
Showcasing to the world, this slush
What a curse it’s to our progress
In abstruse poetic phrases
Read they, some with seriousness
Some with a snigger, unimpressed
All to forget in few minutes
Thus my dénouement rests and rusts.
Before I come to my senses
Slips back the dirt into its source
With a last laugh at my amiss
With stolid stares, I remain stoic
This story doesn’t end here, friends
Again I stick my seeking hands
Into the surrounding quagmire
This time for fistfuls, with vengeance
poem by Sathya Narayana
Added by Poetry Lover
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