"Anniversary"

A bouquet of roses
from your hands to mine,
while chilling on ice
a bottle of wine.

Gift box on the table
tied with red bows,
logs burn in the fireplace
while outside it snows
.
Long tapered candles
dimly lighting the room,
gently dispersing
those tendrils of gloom.

The moonlight streaming
through the windowpane,
soft music playing
an old lover's refrain.

diluted glut

What is this state we call monarch,
a word poverty, what does it mean.
Can we eat a monarch’s left over’s,
so making the word poverty, clean.

I can’t see beyond monarchs first letter,
when it’s meaning fills me with outrage.
No one should be thinking their better,
than any creature they’d kill to assuage.

Should we just discard the infirm or ageing,
helping only those we deem to be an equal.
Shall a monarch applaud these ways discerning,
assuming we’ve been groomed to their will.

..stuck in this eerie moment
unearth the most startling
chronicle of life’s dealings,
an indication of betrayal...

..staring keenly
at the possibilities of humiliation
from this distinct
yet surprising predicament...

..escaping was not an option,
to succeed unnoticed
was the ultimate ambition
through this mysterious prejudice...

..mortified from this certainty
confronted by fear,
anticipating strangers
with their bizarre gazes..

Today, I have grown a heart of stone
I look not again upon the stars
Nor delve into the craters of my scars
Deep hurt already rings inside of me in an abysmal tone

I have questions. Curse them anyway
Never do I get straight answers
Nor am I ever pointed towards the right way
I foot all alone in my misery, night and day