The Ponderings

Pretense of all endearments, in an invented sort of ploy With fitting use of other as slanderous game’s decoy None did try and reach out in attempt to find or seek All my emotional upheavals, when feeling forlornly weak Aided and abetted building domains most others aspired Couldn’t save own foundations which providence had mired Tried being a guiding beacon showing verve shining bright But kept groping in darkness sans flicker of slightest light Each hurt that I tried tending returned with a stabbing gash Pain could though be endured but nasty & sardonic whiplash Far too long has a wait been for winds to favorably align I’ll ride the next passing gust and to fate’s final intent resign