Vibrant joy
Grows ever bolder
For worn eyes
Stocked with worry
The daily tussle
Cries for brawn
In a shrill tone
To cull the unwanted
For plumes of black
Coursing with sludge
They cleave the morn
To stoke the inferno
For slim pickings
The worried must dash
Into the thick haze
So all may thrive

Leave a comment