Acerbic.
Wit wild and uncouth,
the child unbound;
let loose in an adult body.
A mind unleashed,
unsettled and unsung.
Smashing the furniture
into small enough pieces,
to light a fire
and burn the door down.
The Neverland avenger.
Eyes alight with living fire,
deep green and disconcerting;
having long since shrugged off the shackles
of a cultured mind
and a civilized eye.
Rejecting the broken spirit and fettered wings
that first come with acquiescence.
Only the unwell would trade new love for comfort.
Certainly, only the broken
would sever their wings for a waistcoat!
Madness lives in the mediocre doldrums
of the adult mind.
A cesspit.
A midden.
A tomb.
Some of us remember,
that if we’re not living,
we’re dead.
HG – 2015
