My Nonsense Sage
Mind what you think here on the brink,
Yes foolish sage utters strange rhymes;
Note how thought links health in the pink,
Opt turn of page through hollow times;
Now in a cloud where feelings surge,
Streams of mad stuff can bolster ease;
Etch empty loud in primal purge,
Nice ***** enough strings inner peace;
Such cryptic churns of writes that tell,
Entrench the gist of rancid nerves.
Stretch marks return where dimples dwell,
Apply odd list of checks that serve;
Glimpses of grace bestow deep hold,
Embrace harsh trace in tempest cold.
Leon Enriquez
28 March 2018
Singapore
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