Pond Heard Waldon Depth of Despair
No particular rhyme nor,
reason explains to boot
within mind of this (boyish
looking) ole coot,
why sudden flashback didst
kickstart metered metrical foot
when during bout with anorexia nervosa,
I did not give a hoot
analogously harried and swiftly kicked
with barebones styled tailored jackboot.
Said eating disorder, sans
self starvation arose
without explicit explanation
this grown man tries
till he gets himself bluenose
to recapitulate an ill fate,
he conveniently chose
still baffled, thus
without aversion disclose,
silence of echoes
confidential matter
I willingly expose,
said trauma that
nearly did foreclose
emotionally mortgaged corporeal property
boarded figurative
windows, whereat up goes
for sale sign testament to
recalcitrant stalwart hardnose
father and mother felt
obligation to interpose
lest premature demise,
would invariably juxtapose
dealing mortal psychological
(albeit unfair) blow
to parents plus two sisterly kiddoses
perhaps family pets (cats and dogs),
whose meows and lows
punctuating equilibrium
volunteering, (when suicide
gripped stranglehold)
spurring personal tragedy
with sincere manifestoes
(mainly not a verse
to dabble with poetry)
striving to cater to nonheroes
to thwart tragedy, whose nose
(mine) sniffs fallout mainly upon me
woebegotten life somber
(time to cue oboes),
asper the plethora of
influences that predispose
one in the throes
of adolescent experiencing
oh ma dog...gushing hormones
analogous to young lives
loose then taut like mama's yoyos!
Copyright © Matthew Harris | Year Posted 2019
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