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!~