Futility
The sights and sounds
twist and twirl
only to decay
and die in peace,
upon a sea
amid the fronds of
mediocrity
borne upon the
wings of fate.
We look and cannot see
the things which bother most,
that nit and pick and boast,
and dare us to the test
of time to sit
and twiddle for a rhyme.
Then say....the heck
with all the rest.
© Charles Henderson
23 Dec. 2016
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