Differences

If utterly blasé one could maintain it’s 

a lesser way of keeping balance, that 

mode of being aloof without damaging 

toeholds of conscience you wrought by 

self-denial, and cleared of but not freed, 

assuaging agonies; you’re somewhere 

in between obviously, if not its victim, 

then sacrifice at least, but you’ll never

Be right; she will see to it victory stays 

chaste and free of taint, and irony isn’t 

the box seat she’s got at your operatic 

debut but in who wrote the tunes you’ll 

have to sing an aria to before curtains 

deign to quiver awake - and finally fall 

Happy Birthday Lady; so may the last 

solo be praise sung in harmony; what 

a fine fusion of naiveté - of grace and 

dignity bested in belief change’s safer 

than accepting reality; the differences 

forsake what the World gives away 

© 12 June 2014, I. D. Carswell