24 August 2012

What Is left


You’d swear it was benign
until it ate what was left of
raw bluster buoying a sad
state; and as such despair
queries even lucid plans,
discouraging attempts at
pretence, wearing nerves
stretched way too thin

There’s no antidote for an
out-dated state of mind,
conciliatory phrases don’t
soothe aches staled in old
memories repressed by
the debris of what is left
© 3 July 2012, I. D. Carswell