Unawares
Weighty is the crown he wears;
huddled masses, unawares.
Flotsam in life's ebb and flow.
Fools! They scurry to and fro.
Heavy is his mantle bourne,
furrowed brow, lines deep and worn.
Addled, ignorant, confused,
traipsing gaily, much amused,
finding purpose where there's none,
blindly to the cliff they run.
Clenched, the jaw, and ground, the teeth;
naught but scorn for those beneath.
Joyless contrast, rather stark;
on he stumbles in the dark.
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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