Midday Rainstorm, Piquant

Pressed play
on this antiquated box
The music that emanated
Discordant
Lethargic shock paralyzes
The mission does not go well
Platters of food
Are brought to satisfy
A touch of this
A taste of that
Nothing creates fullness
Who feeds the servant
Bonded and bound
to do the master’s bidding?
The servant
Who is his own master
Drawing the boundaries
Holding the line
Don’t come over
As children keep you out
When you really want to join them
Become one of them
Against mores
The elder aching for an empty nest

Advertisements

Share your amazing thoughts with me!

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.