If I Could Find the Words
If I could just tell of the cruel it'd hit,
instead of outbursts that fail to grip,
would heads really grasp... is it all gossip?
Forgotten history and nostalgia trips.
My thoughts once tangled up balls of string,
seem flawed, fall short, fail to alter things,
ostentatious false holds the force to win,
whilst my incongruous talk falters thin
Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2020
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