Followers

Saturday 29 June 2024

Fools Don't Use Tools

 I am out in the open,

My mouth is closed,

As what was spoken

Is duly now disclosed.


I am so wet with tears from years

Of transgressing my insane fears,

I was unwell, suffering a mad hell

Alone in a psychiatric hospital cell.


Come around to a euphonious sound

That is heavenly found to be bound

In and around the moat where I float

Under the spell of a throttling throat.

My words were daft - I need a raft

To escape this pool of being a fool,

Come hither, and weather together

With what tools you can so muster.

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