Poetry

You know what I just did?

Consider me the swan,

Flapping and capable.

Do you agree Son of Man?

Fragments,

Pieces,

Bustling through the air.

Retain it or its gone-

To God knows where.

Perfect piece of satire,

Full of wit and strength.

Elite in nature-

Throw out the rules!

Go away ancient ones!

No stay...

I am just an imprint of the fragmented ones,

Who came before.

Fragmented fragments?

Hush, clear your mind.

Go back to Romance.

Feel its passion slither along the line,

Cross it...

Thoughtful, elitist.

Maybe Medieval?

Nope

Elitist.

Where are the children?

Wordsworth knows-

And so does Bronte.

But not Pope,

Oh! to a tiny adult.

Romantic embalmed child-

you are not human either.

To the blanketed world of pieced togetherness-

You leave nothing for the soul.

Have you left us?

With the death of God?

We cry out for Unity!

Escape the uncertainty.

Fragments and soul,

where do you sit?

I feel you,

I see you-