“Brave-Art-Thou...”

 




Seated within thy self
I muse of thee...
“Four score...” the verse
barely breaks free...

Whilst thou seeketh
thine own truth
or whilst thou not?

Seemingly, Like a leper scorned
Nay, hath thee been forewarned
as callous rhetoric only spews
from the mouth of weary fools

Bask thyself in puddled tears
while thee cleanses
free of rustic caricatures
of false bravado torn
asunder by a life drenched
in thine own fears...