The Threat

Written in a mood of introspection and depression when I was lifted out of self-harms way by Frank Sinatra.

The Threat

Is a dead leaden sky

As it settles above me

Pressing my mood down

Where it will fester

In chronic introspection

 

Cheer is hours from here

In a bar with a beer and leer

But I’ll join them later

Once I have figured a way out

From under this wet blanket

 

This is a sky to die under

Like a final curtain call

“Regrets I’ve had a few”

Frank’s funerary incantation

Drags at my legs

 

I pull away from the overcast

Sky before I’m overwhelmed

The dark intrusion banished

“Start spreading the news”

Cajoles the reticent sun