Free Cee At the Midnight Power
AT THE MIDNIGHT POWER
As a writer I seek sanctuary in every sentence, sentiment and syllable spoken
As a man I possess a soul bought, bastardized and broken
These are traits that rate reviews worthy of nothing much
With a psyche which summarily succumbed to sorrow and such
My soul has been purchased, purloined and perpetually deprived of pity
I’ve been slaving too long at a mill with the gregarious and the witty
As a writer I am compelled, compromised and have competed with complaints
As a man I am confused by and conscious of consistent and consternating constraints
Restraints such as rules, regulations and rebuttals of any kind
Because I am shackled by my maudlin and too often mildly bemused mind
Even merriment means misery for a man such as myself
A person who displays his animosity toward others upon a mantle’s shelf
As a writer my secret is that I have no secrets nor exclusionary excuses
As a man I swear to four strong aces but hold a hand with only two lame deuces
As a writer I heed no warnings that may wane at midnight’s hour
But as a man I confess a constant lack of strength or any palpable power
© 2012...PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
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