(A Cautionary Tale)
Years ago, I
(being poor) had
just my dreams.
So long as their sly play
beguiled the empty hours,
I could forget the things I lacked.
Their wistful mews and
furtive paws, the
febrile shimmer in
their eyes--these
gave me solace in the crude rooms
of my unfinished self.
But one by one,
their lives expired.
All nine times
my sweet True Love had
life stomped from his lungs.
Ambition died the first
six times in battle...
then he lost his nerve.
He died at last
of corpulence.
Some others starved
or were betrayed.
I did not see that they
were dying off until
I stood one morning
in my dark and empty
heart. Alone.
Look into the windows of my eyes, and you will see:
The rats have finished off all that remained of me.
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