an opinion

whirling ocean, once you

have claimed me

praying at the church

never does your grasp

escape me

never does the shadow douse

and as a fire hangs about

in pure slavery to my wit itself enslaved

unto my doubt

that too a screech

becomes a shout

as waves tear off the sand upon the beach

that too escaping my back door

a serpent tongue -the devils lurch

certainly, there goes that shadow boy

enclothed the curling grass

pottery cracked that peoples pass

admiring never beauty

accepting only scorn

one man has a blessing

we focus on what's wrong

I'm guessing we tear this happy

man of stone down

because of penalties within

our own culture

grazing over the subtleties of history

because of what culture we grip at

is worn!!!

as mind also to is also long gone

and never awake but sleeping writhing

wretching dying hiding bathing

in the blankets from the scathing

pain the thorn

they themselves are making

enhancing

forsworn

forever moaning muddy and soothed

by body bullying politics of strewth

it makes a man with sentiment want

to vomit

as too the smiles and graces of happy faces

from a sonnet

are instead enchained by how they look at the many mysteries

with a hate an offspring born

that is fanned and tended to

a man can form opinions

but if cook comes creeping on our shores

we would rather kill the poor

of colonial governments fettered

when he himself forswore

never to treat any man with a whip

and lead him on

but here a man gets all the blame

because of who he is

why he was

the way he was

ignoring facts as a base

if ridden of bards and working-class captains

in statues i bid you never sing a song

for freedom is with the historical few

and with them freedom too

is gone