Be Still
A stoic stands at contemplation’s crossroads
winnowing the weeds of will
delving into the divine divisions
of fate’s frolicsome vicissitudes.
The face of a stony simpleton
suffocating on a stifled smile’s
guarded grimace
pandering to pleasure’s pain.
©3/29/2018
submitted to – Alliteration poem – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Silent One
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2018
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