DARK OVER HANGING CLOUDS

When life devours your very essence
Engulfed you stand in complete abeyance:
Paralysed the N’th degree.
To escape is where I want to be.

As cavernous and wondrous thoughts
Grapple to see where they ought
My mind seems seized and quite inert,
Everything just seems to hurt.

Are the circling vultures mirroring me
As around and around we go with glee.
These new experiences cause confusion
Is my learning becoming compulsion.

O’ to have your clarity of vision
And swoop on carrion, my only mission.
That one clear goal guides your thinking
As you pursue it without flinching.

Rest, sit and pause a while.
To much too soon can taste vile.
Gorged and bloody we think we are sly
But now neither of us can fly.

 

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David Scanlon – England – (1963 - )

Scanlon. D (2018) Poetry for Business : Continuing Conversations. The Foolish Poet Press, Wilmslow, England. DARK OVER HANGING CLOUDS. Page Number 17.

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