One
can easily be driven to distraction,
Maybe caught in exasperation,
When the vagaries of communication,
Have no context of precision,
You strain for some clarification,
Something with the slightest indication,
From the jumble of crude expression,
Making sense or comprehension,
Whilst I strain with consternation,
Avoiding such deserved condescension,
I seek and yearn for explanation,
Though won’t expect elucidation,
Repetition, Repetition, Repetition,
Of every past and recurring conversation,
Each exchange exudes more frustration,
Please, catch me away from this condition,
Ere a match sets off a conflagration,
Dare one wish a spontaneous combustion,
Get a mob for a defenestration,
An arrow strikes to gruesome exsanguination,
As they make the wildest assumption,
That you’re gifted with prognostication,
In their bizarre imagination,
They pine for your appreciation,
But for my grooming and compunction,
I will let go with utter vituperation
In truth, there is no solution,
To everything representing confusion,
For which on simple reflection,
Has capacity for a better exposition,
Being a man of toleration,
With the quest for peace and determination,
It’s a cross, a test, a life’s audition.
Maybe caught in exasperation,
When the vagaries of communication,
Have no context of precision,
You strain for some clarification,
Something with the slightest indication,
From the jumble of crude expression,
Making sense or comprehension,
Whilst I strain with consternation,
Avoiding such deserved condescension,
I seek and yearn for explanation,
Though won’t expect elucidation,
Repetition, Repetition, Repetition,
Of every past and recurring conversation,
Each exchange exudes more frustration,
Please, catch me away from this condition,
Ere a match sets off a conflagration,
Dare one wish a spontaneous combustion,
Get a mob for a defenestration,
An arrow strikes to gruesome exsanguination,
As they make the wildest assumption,
That you’re gifted with prognostication,
In their bizarre imagination,
They pine for your appreciation,
But for my grooming and compunction,
I will let go with utter vituperation
In truth, there is no solution,
To everything representing confusion,
For which on simple reflection,
Has capacity for a better exposition,
Being a man of toleration,
With the quest for peace and determination,
It’s a cross, a test, a life’s audition.
[]
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments are accepted if in context to the blog, polite and hopefully without the use of expletives.
Please, show your name instead of defaulting to Anonymous, it helps to know who is commenting.
Links should only refer to the commenter's profile, not to businesses or promotions, as they will NOT be published.
Thank you for commenting on my blog.