Picayune

The stress’s blessed with picayune; o’ well 

you can pocket it & walk away - which isn’t 

like that fistful of promises, if ever believed 

possible that you’re made with receptacles 

to place them in being wet handkerchiefs 

It thus leaves you an egregious example of 

something you’d like to believe you are not; 

in testing truth of that - you’re what we’d’ve 

gotten used to as an epitome of what we’d 

avoid had we wielded the speakers chair 

And that’s not going to happen; it mayn't be 

the sinecure it was because you’d begun to 

believe in yourself as the point of reference 

which mattered - not what other’s decreed 

So an endgame was the aim, yet not crowd 

pleasing of its endless compromise - so we 

wobbled away with half of the prize tho’ still 

stressed by it - altho’ now able to sleep 

It’ll be at least a week before there is an in-

reality return to the signs of normalcy you’d 

dispute ever existed anyway; it’s previously 

a dream of just what you’d like it to be 

© 24 October 2015, I. D. Carswell