08 January 2013

For A Sick Friend


This sickness is a carapace of gloom,
it clings possessively, nothing stays
uneasiness – infiltrates that state of
self-delusive masquerade; wrapped
in glassine doubt restraints you’ve
been arraigned in Court, and yet it
isn’t what you aught have earned or
been so cynically endowed

Tho’ sick and nearer death than ever
was a course informed by common-
sense – or lead by counsel’s wisdom
dredging looser ends, there’s space
aside to needlessly make lunacy
your plea and seem an able aide
© 29 November 2012, I. D. Carswell