The Mad Poet
In answer to his kind comments
I wandered into his domain.
Devouring words leapt out at me.
I feared I’d not get out again.
With phrases hanging in the air
And meanings hard to comprehend
I struggled mightily to free
My mind from his inanity.
I stopped to lend a helping hand
To others enmeshed in his snare.
Blank gazes showed I was too late.
To save myself I hied from there.
If flattered by unctuous words
Into his other-worldly lair,
Dear poet stop to hear my plea
And do not take his deadly dare.
8/29/12
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2012
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