I, Once Removed
I've no mind to lose
or gain
A mind unused
can feel no pain
- the kind borne out
Of overthought
By minds intense
and overwrought.
Joy, too, is futile,
A fleeting thing
To which the docile
hearts will cling.
So what of me
When all is done?
Actions, many
Feelings, one
For what I know
I knew not then
Those years ago
Before the pen.
Cynthia Buell Thomas
Sat 22nd Apr 2017 20:04
Glad you took Colin's advice.
I like the discipline in this - a good idea firstly, and then a secure grip on your chosen structure of rhyme and rhythm. It takes both talents to write good verse.