Thursday, 19 November 2009

Who Laughs Last?

Unbalanced and torn, denied and stoned by your absence,
And I admire your pace, you are willing to space the divide.
Un-eased and unsteady, I shiver with fright in your presence.
Crushed and recycled, doubtful and petrified.
Unknowingly branded with the cinders of blame.
As you watch from the distance and revel’ my shame.
Your layers unfold, and truth be told, I prevail.
Captured true colours, my judgement correct,
My pride un-lowered, my stance erect,
Who laughs last, my dear? My honour wails

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