You Say
You say you are a
Saint. Your reign
Is of no indent. We
Must wrest
Out our mindless doubt. Your
Tenet is
Without debt. YES,
That was just at the
Start. No one
You called stupid
As you ought
Not do so even now. But
How do we
Reject this doubt
With your floret withered;
When you
Now break our reedy necks
Not our plummet?
Copyright © Allan Kazembe | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment