I started lackadaisically, lazily
Dabbling in rascality, with impunity
Engaging in petty villainy
Of the heart, or of that part
That loves and leaves
And never grieves, or regrets
Then instantly forgets.
But time effects crime
And I’m not immune
So, soon, fortune assumed
Another set of runes, tunes
To which circumstance
Made me do a painful dance.

I have been abused and refused
Contused, misused and not amused.
Sad faced, disgraced, pride misplaced
Not even chaste, regretting in haste
I selected and inspected and rejected,
Then I got ejected, dejected
While undetected, I suspected
I was unacceptable, reprehensible,
And susceptible to unintelligible
Grasping and gasping for the hasp
To the treasure, unable to measure
The distance from indifference
To acceptance and intelligence;
A frame of reference, in deference
To surreality, and insensitivity.

My proclivity for veracity forfends me
To live in pretense, without a sense
Of integrity, I am impossibly
Irrepressibly, optimistically,
Illogically hopeful.
And though it makes me tough
I take the chance it is enough
For I no longer long
For the dancing
Or the song.

Brent Kincaid


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