Pungent

Weary this world where dirt flings stain. Dreary the swirl in crude terrain. Pain seeps through stuff to corrode zest, Troubles make rough to cancel fest. Strange is the way of tempest found, Fear speaks to say with empty sounds. Hope floods to purge the lonely dark, Love funds the urge to light a spark. Easy finds fit with modest grain, Feel cheery wit edge out odd pain. Pungent the taste of lousy feel, Forfeit the haste and live goodwill. And in these times of empty talk, Listen for rhymes that joy feeds walk. End abrupt here with smiles that warm, Depend on cheer to flesh true form. Leon Enriquez 29 February 2016 Singapore