Brass tacked
Cloaked hands
Smite and wave
Tauntingly in the face
Destiny gloatingly
Catches off guard,
Belly ever bloated~

I think I got a handle
On life and realize
No, cracks still show~

Luck keeps shifting shape
Like water in the cup, bucket
Glass, different same literally~

Stoic lessons destiny
Taught, had, have stood me well
And then not, my well of pangs
Dive bombed to a new nadir
In self pity~

Guards like moats should
Be lowered in preparedness
Eyes should draw curtains
Lest the simpatico, jealous, wistful
Furtively read writing on their walls~

Clich├ęd life has got me
By the throat, metaphors jeer
Life is what it is, brows upright upbeat
Uncurled lips, finger nails bitten bleeding
Again I attempt to stitch
Tattered dignity~

There is beauty in childlike
Simplicity, I was never one
For haut couture sophistication
Manicured lawns~

A wayward garden
Burgeoning naturally
Trimmed, snipped here, there
Was, is my speed, I confess
Adhering to own innate
Nature sans fakery’s
Put on long lashes~

**Frida Kahlo image is from internet only


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