Yielding meters, writing teeters

1st January 2011

Alas could I then write again?

I have become frightened hen

And as I look and forsake the pen

Retreating in my barren den

I think of the times lost back in yesterday

When all was mirth, fun and play

When wandering mind me would stray

Within a world that dark could sway

Forsaken now is this pen of mine

For a remotely lost black Valentine

Whom this life from count of nine

Would want again in it me to whine

Of darkened soul too much I saw

Of pressure binding shut my jaw

Of injustice hiding behind the law

Of cutting flesh by a heartless saw

Oh how I wish for a time to come

When I could again be all but mum

Of times that would only be a sum

Of bliss like cakes topped by plum

And as I witnessed wake of dawn

Thinking of the year now gone

Hoping with this new one was born

A hope to change me from forlorn

A million whispers touched my ear

Of nature’s presents sweet and dear

Of universal law now bound to appear

To pierce the darkness like a spear

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