docmaverick
docmaverick
Jul 28, 2012

The Pawn Folly

Sand-like cliffs reaching up as towers
their sole purpose, but to measure hours,
feels a though I'm stuck in a cage
resulting in more visitations with rage;

There's not enough drink to fade it away
and too much left to quit it, today.
A good woman could help me put it down
but, there doesn't seem to be any of them, around.

Gravity's pulling just as hard as she'd might
and, the extra pull, has brought upon us, the night;
and, just as noon can coerce the dew to fade
night got real lucky, bartering for trade;

for day's sky and night's sky yearned for folly to be
each dimension's signature for eternity;
pawn folly was divided into both these domains
giving birth to split issues, and more difficult planes.

But, on l keep trudging, as on l must go
who'll win in the long-run, believe l'll never know,
l've donned my best hat and, my only warm cloak
I despise finding out l'm still the butt of the joke!

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: The High Desert, in the wild west, southern California, U.S. of A.., USA

Favorite Poets: Keates

More from this author

Comments

Ian.T

Ian.T

12 years 9 months ago

I know your last line is usually a play on life but I felt that this piece didn't warrant the old way as it was grand in its own way...
"feels a though I'm stuck in a cage" is there a silent "S" in this line lol
Take care young poet, Yours Ian.T